Royal Decisions
by these-dreams-go-on
Summary: AU/AH- Caroline is the Queen of England and in need of a husband. She decides upon Niklaus to fulfill that role. Renaissance Era. Fluff. Lemon. Smut. Background pairing of Kalijah. Rated T for now, will be upgraded to M later.
1. Chapter 1

A/N- Due to the fact that I have less than a month to completely pack up my life in Australia, apply for two different visas and then move to Poland, I find my concentration is shot to hell and I'm now writing drabbles because I can't focus on much else.

Disclaimer- I own nothing associated with TVD/TO.

-Do not review this story demanding I update my other ones, I will get to them when I can.

* * *

Queen Caroline awoke that morning firm in her resolve.

When her ladies came in to dress her that morning she pondered a while before choosing her gown of silver silk with red undersleeves and underskirt. She sat patiently as her hair was brushed until it flowed down her back in golden waves and breathed steadily while her crown was placed on her forehead.

"Fetch me the ermine cloak." she ordered as a heavy diamond necklace was placed around her neck.

"You look beautiful Your Majesty." Lady Katherine told her as she draped the cloak over her shoulders and Caroline watched her from the side of her eye,

She would know, she supposed.

Lady Katherine had been raised in the French court and was the sauciest of her ladies, collecting men's hearts like a squirrel collected nuts, however she could not fault the wench when she was the one who had given her the idea which she would enact today.

It was a chilly autumn day and Caroline shivered as she led the Court from Dover Castle down to the green where the stands, tents and jousting arena had been set up. The people of Kent cheered her loudly as she approached and even in spite of her nervousness she managed to smile and wave.

The people of England adored their young and beautiful Queen.

Especially on days when they were celebrating victory.

Once again, the Spanish fleet had entered English waters and once again it had been rousted.

She walked up to her throne, underneath the canopy bearing the royal rose, through the throng of bowing courtiers and loud trumpets and waved once more to the people as she sat down. She rests her hands on the arm of her chair and tries to grip the wood subtly so as to hide their trembling.

Her ladies settle around her like decorative dolls, and the nobles of the land take their position, each vying to catch her attention before the trumpets sound again and she becomes blind to her capricious butterflies.

He has arrived.

The hero of the English fleet, the man who'd captained them to victory, who'd stormed Calais and won it back from the French after her ancestor had lost it to them. The man who had first come to her attention by forcing invading Scots to retreat from the North and held it for her.

Niklaus Mikaelson.

The third son of Mikael Mikaelson, Lord of Hever Castle in Kent.

His eldest brother Finn alone had inherited anything from the late lord, the rest of the family had been forced to make their own way. The second son Elijah had entered the diplomatic service and even now protected her interests in France. Niklaus had gone into the army and achieved such renown on the battlefield that his enemies called him The Wolf and whispered that he was the most dangerous man to encounter in a fight. After his victory against the Scots he had asked permission to enter the navy and she had granted it out of curiosity of his abilities.

As it turned out, he was as skilled on the seas as he was on the land.

Not even thirty and already more accomplished than men twice his age.

He comes into view amidst the cheers of the crowd, he was second only to her in the hearts of the English people. Not only was he a brave and successful soldier but he was handsome and ready with a smile. He was a knight of true chivalry and honour, bringing to mind the romance of King Arthur and the Round Table.

His breast plate has been polished until it shines and his face is aglow with pride as he marches towards her, stopping before the canopy and bowing as deeply as permitted in armour.

"Good day Master Niklaus," Caroline managed to smile, giving him leave to rise.

"We welcome you back to England with open arms and thank you for your service to our country." She announced and his grin widened,

"I am grateful for the opportunity to have served, Your Majesty" he replies sweetly, his blue eyes dancing and words momentarily fail her.

Oh but he was handsome.

All the women of the Court thought so. Golden hair that fell to his shoulders, blue eyes, red lips, a skilled dancer and an even better flirt.

"I am grateful that you did not fall in the water," Caroline says before she can think to stop herself,

"I was not sure that wolves could swim"

The Court laughs merrily and Niklaus along with them,

"When asked by the Queen herself, I am sure a wolf could take wing and fly." he replies wittily and she fights to keep her smile regal,

"We shall keep that in mind if our enemies ever take flight."

She stands, "Come," she calls to the crowd, "Let us feast and celebrate."

She sees Niklaus falter uncertainly and sees the question on his face.

He had achieved the greatest victory of her reign- albeit her young reign- surely he was to be rewarded with more than thanks?

She turns away from him for the moment and to one of her ladies,

"Bring food and wine for two to my tent," she commands and to another, "Tell Niklaus to attend to me there."

* * *

She cut a path to the cloth of gold tent set up under a great oak tree, lain with carpets and furnished as grandly as possible. There is already ale on the table and she drinks deeply, hoping that it will go straight to her empty stomach and calm her nerves as she sends her ladies away to enjoy the festivities.

The food arrives only moments before Niklaus and she notes that he tarried only long enough to remove his breast plate, revealing his dark blue doublet underneath.

He stands there with his hands behind his back and she waves towards the food,

"We would have you dine with us," she said, gesturing to his seat,

"And discuss the prizes we would offer you as thanks for your duty."

She sees the relief in his face and sinks into her chair cautiously as he takes his own,

"Serving Your Majesty is reward enough." he intones dutifully and she smirks,

"If that were true many a noble would be a peasant or as poor as one."

He chuckles and they begin eating, him heartily, her picking at her food, making a pretence of dining as she resists the urge to have the server refill her cup more than once.

"What you managed in battle was believed to be impossible," she begins, unable to wait until they have even finished the first course and she sees Niklaus pause before rapidly trying to swallow the food in his mouth and she feels embarrassed that she has put him in that position,

"My council was in a panic," she continues quickly so that he doesn't have to try to speak,

"They were certain that the Spaniards would land on our shores and were begging me to take refuge in London or even the Tower itself."

"God forbid that we ever allow that day to come," Niklaus said and she smiled,

"The Tower is truly not that bad, if you aren't a prisoner it can be quite nice, the royal chambers are some of the best in England, warm and pleasant…"

She stops when she realises that she's describing the rooms where she sleeps and closes her mouth before she finds herself discussing the bed curtains or some other foolishness. Meanwhile, Niklaus' tongue darts out to lick his lips and she clears her throat,

"We have had the papers drawn up," she informs him, "We would show our gratitude by offering you the earldom of Leicester."

His eyes widen in almost comical disbelief, his mouth opens and closes a few times before he can manage to speak,

"An earldom? Your Majesty honours me far too…"

"It is nothing," she interrupts, although arguably, raising the third son of a lord to an earl in one step was quite something.

Filled with nervous energy she stands but waves for him to remain seated as she paced to the opening of the tent, looking out into the field of revelry despite the chilly autumn day, quickly she turned to the brazier heating up the room,

"We would have the investiture at Hampton Court," she says as she turns the ring on her finger,

"And then we would ask something else of you."

He stretches his legs under the table and out of the corner of her eye she sees how graceful he appears even when there are traces of exhaustion under his eyes,

"However I may serve Your Majesty I will gladly do so."

She takes a shaky breath, "I am in need of a husband," she announces, dropping the royal 'we' "England is in need of a Prince consort to support me in my rule."

He frowns and falls silent as he tries to figure out his task,

"You would have me conduct the negotiations?" he asks doubtfully, Elijah being famed as the diplomat in the family and she shakes her head.

"I would have you fill that role," she corrects, looking up briefly before her eyes flew back to the brazier, "I would have you as my husband," she elaborates further.

"We are in need of someone who can command our army or navy," she brings herself to look up and meet his eyes, noting that he has gone pale and his eyebrows are halfway up his forehead,

"Someone who can defend the North but does not belong to once royal stock. A strong man but not so strong as to force us from our throne into the shadows and…we will need to provide England with an heir and we are an only child whilst your mother birthed seven living children, so you are from fertile stock therefore you are a suitable candidate."

He tried to speak and only a croak came out before he tried again, "My brother Finn is a lord…"

She shakes her head, "Your brother Finn has been known to consort with women of ill-repute and rumours of his having suffered from the French disease has reached our ears, we would not risk our lives in that manner."

"My brother Elijah…?" he suggests weakly.

In truth, she had considered Elijah, he was an educated man, a brilliant diplomat, witty and a skilled musician. He was handsome and chivalrous, a true gentleman- however, Caroline had seen the love letters that he wrote to Lady Katherine and suspected that if she took him as husband, she would very shortly find him taking Lady Katherine as his mistress.

Besides, even if she could simply send Lady Katherine back to France or into exile anywhere in the world, the simple fact remained…

That Niklaus was _very_ handsome and very exciting and if she did have to marry, she would marry someone who would be a source of happiness for her.

"We believe that you would be the most suitable for us," she tells him firmly, "Unless you have already promised yourself to another?"

The thought strikes her, even though she had heard nothing of the sort, certainly even though many a woman had swooned over him, few would be willing to marry a disinherited third son.

He shakes his head, "I am free to marry."

She smiles, "Good," she holds out her hand and he stands up, gripping the arms of the chair to keep himself upright before making his way over to her slowly, swaying as if he were still aboard his ship.

"Then you will accept our proposal?" she asks as he takes her hand and kisses her ring,

"With all my heart." he murmurs quietly.

She lets him go then, to join the festivities and he barely manages to make it out of the tent without tripping over something.

With a sigh of relief, Caroline nearly puts her hand on the brazier to steady herself before remembering at the last minute that it would burn her fingers clean off.

She clears her throat and motions for the servant to bring her cup, having it filled to the brim before drinking deeply and deciding to try to eat,

"You will not say a word of this to anyone." she warns them darkly as she cuts into the roast swan.

If nothing else, she didn't want the Court to know how much she'd had to convince Niklaus to accept her hand marriage. He'd seemed rather reluctant.

She hoped the idea wasn't too distasteful to him, if nothing else she would bring him a great deal of power.

* * *

A/N- Let me know what you think!


	2. Chapter 2

A/N- Quick clear-up to avoid confusion. Technically at the time I'm roughly writing this a Queen of England would also be the Queen of Ireland, Wales and maybe even Scotland but I am writing this as a distraction so I'm not going to be getting that historically accurate.

And why does Caroline keep alternating between first person and the royal 'we'? Because around Klaus she forgets her role as queen and instead behaves as a young woman.

* * *

The day after his investiture, Earl Niklaus approached Caroline as she was walking through the gardens of Hampton Court, he steps into her path with a flourish of his ermine lined cloak she'd draped over his shoulders and bows,

"May I have the honour of attending Your Majesty?" he asked looking up at her eagerly and she hesitates only momentarily before nodding, resting her hand on his sleeve when he offers it to her.

Her ladies fall back obediently and they continue along the garden, the autumn leaves of orange and brown scattering across the pebble path as the grey sky hovers low and ominously over them,

"How are you enjoying your new position?" Caroline asks him as she studies his face from underneath her eyelashes.

In the last week they had not spoken a single word until she had bestowed his earldom on him, it had been as if they'd never dined together in the tent but she had thought about him often, looking for him at Court and always finding him at a distance, watching her but not approaching.

Nervously she'd told herself that he was simply taken with naval matters and decided not to seek him out, allowing herself instead to enjoy day dreaming about romance and happiness as her ladies often did when they were supposed to be attending to their duties.

"I like it very much," he tells her,

"As does my brother Kol who is now sending all his creditors to me and all the new friends I suddenly find myself with."

"And new lady loves we assume?" she suggests more coldly than she had intended.

"I'm sure that there is many a woman willing to match herself to you now that you are an earl."

"Well," he shrugs uneasily, "Yes…but are we not…?" he trails off uncertainly, a slight furrow of his brows,

"Have I done something wrong, Your Majesty?"

"You have not spoken to us," she pointed out, "I thought you were unhappy with the union I had suggested and unwilling to marry me"

"No" he says the word loudly, firmly and Caroline can see behind her that her ladies are utterly stunned.

' _No_ ' is not a word that is spoken to sovereigns often. She herself pauses a step in surprise before resuming,

"Forgive me, Your Majesty," he pleads,

"In one day you rose me from a nobody to an earl and then from an earl to a prince, I climbed so quickly that my head was dizzy from the height."

They are approaching the end of the path and Caroline slowly changes direction, leading him to the river that they may walk alongside.

"And now?" she queries apprehensively, "How is your head?"

Niklaus smiles and his voice is warm, "Very aware of the great honour that you do me and very willing to accept and my heart…"

He turns his head to face her, "May I speak honestly, Your Majesty?"

She nods excitedly, relieved in his willingness to marry her,

"I would have you do that always."

He bends so that his mouth is closer to her ear,

"My heart yearns to be joined in matrimony with you, the most beautiful woman in England,"

She gasps in delight and smiles and seeing this, Niklaus continues,

"It wishes to marry you as soon as possible so that I may begin my husbandly duties."

"You think being my husband will be a matter of duty?" she asks confused and he chuckles, his breath warm on her cold ear,

"Yes, I speak of my duty to take you to bed of course and to keep you there until we have made an heir, no matter how many hours or days that will entail. England requires me to enjoy conjugal bliss until your womb has quickened and I am nothing if not a dutiful subject."

Caroline blushed and looked around to make sure nobody could overhear them,

"You cannot speak to me thus" she chastises him, "I am the _Queen_ "

"Yes" he agrees, "You are the Queen, the Queen of all of England until the very moment you step into the marital chambers, then you shall be _my_ Queen and mine alone to serve most loyally."

Her heart is thumping in her chest and her breathing quickens. She has never been spoken to in such a manner before, as if she were a simple woman and he an ordinary suitor. She allowed her women to read the romances and sigh over the pretty words whispered but had never thought that she would find herself receiving such attention.

"We should marry in the winter and I will still make ours the hottest bed in Christendom," he murmurs,

"And when you are my Queen, your most loyal subject will refuse to let you wear even a shift in our marital chamber, for my duty will require you to be gloriously naked as often as possible"

Her eyelids flutter closed and she swallows to try and wet her mouth, her hand falling from his arm to pat down her skirt,

"You are uttering the most indecent things with your mouth."

"Send away your ladies and I shall show you what other indecent things I can do with this mouth."

"Leave now before I throw you in the Tower." She orders in a daze, her face so hot as to look feverish, Niklaus bows and takes her hand, pressing a long kiss to the knuckle above her ring, his eyes flicker from her face down to her skirt,

"I wish I were still a scout in the army" he jokes, "So that I could search under that dress for any hidden treasures I might claim"

Caroline pulled off her glove and threw it at him, only to have him catch it and tuck it into his sleeve as he darted away with a laugh that she couldn't help but echo.

"Your Majesty?" Lady Elena approached, confusion evident on her sweet little face,

"Shall I ask the earl to return your glove?"

Caroline placed her bare hand to her lips, "No, no, Lady Elena let him keep it"

She rather liked the thought of him having her favour.

* * *

From then onwards, Niklaus kept finding ways to place himself in her path and she kept finding excuses to seek him out,

"Lady Katherine," Caroline called quietly as she rose from the Royal box after chapel,

"Ask Earl Niklaus to walk with us, we would speak to him about the state of our ships"

Her lady darts away, sweeping gracefully down the stairs to the pew where Niklaus had sat and Caroline had watched him the entire time, ignoring everything but his handsome figure.

When Katherine reaches him, he looks up to the Royal box and bows before moving through the crowd to wait for her at the bottom of the stairs. Falling into step seamlessly beside her as she walks back to her rooms,

"Good day Your Majesty" he greets her cheerfully, his eyes already dancing with mischief,

"May a humble nobleman offer his compliments on how beautiful you are in the royal purple?"

"You say that no matter what colour we're wearing" she points out, fighting back her smile, as she glances down on her purple and black gown.

"Then it must simply be your magnificence." he decides, not bothering to lower his voice when his words are nothing that haven't been spoken to her by one hundred flirtatious courtiers one hundred different times.

"Soon you shall wear the royal purple" she murmurs, wishing that it was not so cold an autumn that she might have an excuse to carry her fan and hide her face. Niklaus dips his head to show that he has heard her but he does not seem pleased by the honour.

"Do you not care for the colour purple?" she asks, slightly hurt.

"In truth my Queen, I am opposed to any sort of clothing between the two of us" he retorts, keeping his face clear as her cheeks flush red.

She whacks his arm and tries to glare at him disapprovingly,

"You have a soldier's bawdy tongue," she chastises,

"We should have it cut out!"

He chuckles, "Oh, I wouldn't suggest that my queen, a bawdy tongue has a great many uses for women."

She sees her Chancellor awaiting her in the corridor outside her rooms and calls out to him,

"Tell me Master Alaric," she raises her voice so the Court can be led to believe what had been said between the two of them,

"Is it possible to have a man thrown in the Tower for telling the Queen bawdy sailor jokes?"

Chancellor Alaric eyes the new earl disapprovingly, however he wore that same expression for almost every man at court.

"As the Queen you may do as you wish" he intones respectfully.

"Allow me to apologise" Niklaus responds theatrically, dropping to his knees as those around them tittered in merriment,

"May I kiss your foot in supplication?"

Caroline took a pointed step back and gathered her skirts around her,

"No you shall not," she says firmly, "We know enough about sailors to know not to let them anywhere near our skirts"

The court broke into peals of laughter as Niklaus rose,

"Then with your permission I shall retire to my rooms to await transport to the Tower."

She nods and he makes to bow before halting halfway and straightening again,

"Oh, I forgot, I had meant to ask a favour."

"Then come, for your services to this land we shall hear you before any other petitioner."

She leads him through her waiting chambers, where people have gathered to see her, through to her presence chamber where petitioners of all sorts awaited her, all scurrying out of the way as she moved but all eyeing her with adoration and eagerness. She wants to lead Niklaus to her privy chamber but is worried that will attract the notice of the jealous court who are always ready to grumble when someone new attracts her favour.

So instead, she mounts the dais and settles into her seat, beckoning for him to approach her, he hovers before her with only the slightest hesitation,

"Is it untoward of me to be asking favours already?" he asks with a concerned expression but she gives a little shake of her head,

"Ask it of us and we will grant it gladly," she tells him with a smile,

"For we would see you happy."

He grins, "I was wondering if there is a place among your ladies-in-waiting for one more," he begins and Caroline feels her smile falter.

Oh.

Of course she is not the first queen to have had to employ her husband's mistress in her rooms but surely she deserved a season of happiness before this insult?

"Perhaps," she allows cautiously, "What is her name?"

"Lady Rebekah," he answers, "My younger sister, she is fourteen but I am sure she will fare well at court."

Caroline puts a hand to her throat and laughs in relief,

"Your sister, verily bring her to court and we shall give her a place among my ladies."

Niklaus tilts his head and regards her with curiosity,

"For whom did you think I was asking a favour?"

She drops her head in shame, "The lineage of our family is filled with women given places in the Queen's court so that they might be romanced by her husband."

"Well," Niklaus drawls teasingly, "There is one woman who holds my heart as firmly as I hold an accessory of hers"

Caroline raised an eyebrow, picking up on his humoured tone, "Oh?"

"Yes, the wondrous woman was so generous as to throw her glove at me and I treasure it as surely as if it had been dropped from heaven. I keep it under my pillow and kiss it every night, awaiting the day that I might kiss her lips instead,"

She smiles and her eyes flicker to his lips, imagining kissing them for the first time and trying to think where they might be able to accomplish this without being spied upon by the court.

"Surely she is not a generous woman to only gift you one glove" she jests, eager to keep him in her presence for as long as possible.

"Mayhap you should ask her for the other one so that you might have the pair?"

His grin widens and he gazes pointedly at her dress, as if he can see through the purple silk and black underskirt,

"If I were so bold as to ask her, I would instead request the ribbon from her garter and beg for the privilege of removing it myself."

She gasps and shifts in her seat, turning her face away under the pretence of checking the line of petitioners awaiting her attention eagerly.

"You forget yourself," she accuses, yet without malice and he only shrugs.

"I have been told that I am to have the gift of marrying the most beautiful woman in England," he argues,

"How can I remember anything but the way your eyes shine like diamonds and your laughter rings like silver bells in the early morn?"

Caroline drops her hand from her throat to her heart,

"Have you sister come to court as quickly as possible" she orders tenderly,

"We would have her present a fortnight from now when we address Parliament"


	3. Chapter 3

A/N- Finally getting to the action now.  
People have been suggesting that I introduce Klaus' mistress or some tension. No, this is going to be a happy story all the way and all from Caroline's POV. I'm writing this as a form of stress-relief, not to create a long, drawn-out work as I usually do.

* * *

Usually when Caroline dealt with matters of State, she would do so in her council chambers, however, when the sun was out and no rain threatened the day, she would invite Chancellor Saltzman to walk with her in her private garden outside her rooms. They would stroll up and down the pathways while they discussed the issues before them and debated the way forward.

They were pondering over whether Scottish raiding parties would be crossing their borders that coming winter when a page appeared at the garden door and bowed quickly, when Caroline gives him permission to enter, he scurries forward before dithering uncertainly and decides to lean up and whisper into the Chancellor's ear.

Caroline watches curiously as the man frowns and then pales slightly,

"Forgive me Your Majesty" he apologises profusely, "I have received word of an urgent matter to which I must attend…a private matter." He adds hastily when he sees her concern,

"You are excused and I hope all shall be well." She says, pondering the situation as both page and chancellor hurry from the garden, the door closing behind them and the guards outside would prevent any more intruders.

Surprised at her sudden and rare moment of privacy, Caroline walks another lap of her small gardens, her hands clasped behind her back as she walks past the north wall, shrieking in alarm when a figure darts out of the niche and pulls her inside.

"Easy, easy" the all too familiar voice whispers, as she struggles, "It is only me, my queen"

Caroline waits until her eyes adjust to the darkness, the brickwork niche being cast in shadow. She sees the blonde hair and handsome face of her secret betrothed and breathes steadily to try and calm her heart,

"Have you taken leave of your senses?" she demands, "Sneaking into our garden?! The chancellor could have seen you and raised the alarm."

Niklaus grins, his hands still on her stomacher, above her periwinkle blue gown and Caroline suddenly realises that they are utterly alone and unobserved.

She is so close to him that she can feel the warmth of his body and one step more and they would be pressed together.

"Were I to go another minute without seeing you my senses would leave and never return," Niklaus says, his thumbs starting to trace the silver floral patterns on her gown,

"Fear not, the chancellor shall not return until early evening."

Caroline raised an eyebrow, "Dare we ask what you have done?"

"Nothing wicked or untoward," he assures her with his mischievous grin,

"I simply convinced his mistress that she would require his presence for the rest of the afternoon, in return for allowing her to build a hospital and train midwives on my new lands."

She shook her head, "Such deviousness and duplicity? We are afraid to know the reason for such actions."

He ducked his head and gazed into her eyes, " _You_ , my queen, you are all my reasons"

Her heart glowed and she smiled as he reached into his pocket and withdrew something held in his fist,

"I wished to give you this," he opened his palm to show her a gold ring with a square cut emerald, "A small token of love and a gift of sweethearts."

Speechless, Caroline holds out her hand and Niklaus slides the ring onto her finger, lifting her hand up to his lips and kissing her fingertips before impulsively stepping forward and kissing her on the lips.

Their lips brush together slowly, softly until she opens her mouth and the kiss deepens, Niklaus slipping his tongue to rub against hers. Caroline hums as every part of her becomes sensitive to the smallest of things, to the touch of the air in her hair, to the hard ground beneath her feet.

She breaks the kiss to catch her breath and Niklaus' hand cups her cheek as his lips ghost over her jaw and down to her neck,

"You should order me to stop kissing you," Niklaus murmurs against her skin.

"I am the Queen of England," she responds, tilting her head and brushing her hair over her shoulder as he tucks part of her lace collar aside,

"You cannot tell me what to do."

"Please order me to stop kissing you." he begs, his hand going to her back and pressing her against his hard chest, she clutches his blue doublet,

"Stop and we'll have you imprisoned and exiled," she warns, her voice barely above a whimper,

"Kiss me again."

This time, their kiss was full of passion and yearning, the pull they'd started to feel ever since that fateful day in the tent. Niklaus pushes her against the wall and only when she starts to truly consider surrendering her maidenhead there in the garden like some kitchen slut does she pull away.

Her lips are swollen and her heart is thudding in her chest, her body is trembling and the place between her thighs feels warm.

Niklaus takes three steps back and clasps his hands behind him, "I should go," he murmurs, every part of him betraying his unwillingness to leave.

" _Wait_ ," Caroline says, looking down to her hands and splaying out her fingers, she slides the pearl ring off her finger and hands it to him,

"A token of luck and our royal protection."

"My sweetest queen, yet I cannot wear this," he says regretfully "For it will be recognised as yours."

And if people suspected that she was considering marriage with an Englishman, she would find her court and herself inundated with every eligible man in England, all the old families would try to bully her into accepting their suitor and all the new would become resentful and malicious.

They had to keep their union hidden until she went to Parliament.

Her thoughts stray to her glove that Niklaus kept under his pillow and she was struck with an idea.

Swallowing back her nervousness she looks him square in the eye,

"Lift up my skirts." she commands in a steady tone.

He inhales sharply and his eyes widen in surprise but when he sees her solemnity he lowers himself to one knee, takes her blue gown and white underskirt in hand and raises them above her silver clothed shoes to her white stocking-clad ankles.

"Higher," she sighs, and he slides the material up to her knees,

" _Higher_ still."

"There," she whispers when he reaches the top of her stockings, revealing a hint her creamy flesh

"My garter ribbons, remove them."

His fingers tug at the pink ribbons, untying the bows and pulling the silk away into his hands, causing her stockings to loosen and begin sliding down her thighs. With a mournful sigh, he lowered her skirts back down and adjusted them around her shoes before straightening.

Caroline took the two ribbons and slipped one through the pearl ring, before handing it to Niklaus.

"Hold." she orders quietly as her fingers reach up for the collar of his doublet, opening it until she sees his undershirt. She takes the ribbon back from him and ties the two ends together before slipping it over his head, the pearl ring falls against his chest and she fixes his collar back in place.

"Wear this always," she tells him, "As close to your heart as I wish to be."

"I will," he swears, "And will you wear my ring over your own heart?"

She slips the ring off her finger and onto the pink ribbon before turning her back to him and lifting her hair up. He lowers the ribbon over her head and around her neck, where it lands on the bust of her dress. When she turns back to him, his tongue darts out and licks his lips before he picks up the ring and tucks it under the fabric of her gown, his finger curling against the silk before he uses the leverage to pull her back towards him, taking her waist in his hands and lowering his head to kiss the curve of her breasts.

Caroline moans and cups the back of his head with her hand, tangling her fingers in his golden locks as he pants against her flesh.

"Now we must order you to release us," she sighs repentantly,

"We must be pure as pearls on our wedding night."

He groans in protest but obeys her, "And when shall that wedding night be?" he asks,

"For if I have to wait much longer I shall run mad."

She giggles at his impatient tone, "We meet with Parliament four days hence, we will announce our intention to marry you and then we shall be married on the Winter Solstice"

"Yet that is so far away!" he protests and she reaches up to cup his cheek in her hand,

"Verily, however even if Parliament does not decide to tarry, it shall take a month to organise a wedding worthy of a queen"

"And if Parliament tarries?" he queries concernedly and she shakes her head,

"We will not allow them to do so, besides we are eight-and-ten, nearly overripe for a husband in the eyes of every Englishman. No matter that comes, we swear that we shall be married before the year's end."

He smiles and moves forward, causing her to retreat backwards until she is once again pressed to the wall,

"Very well," he says, "I shall give you the month however, even if we are not married then, I shall visit your bed chamber to claim you as my wife."

"You dare threaten us?" she murmured weak with desire, her eyes on his lips and her heart in her ears.

"Oh no my sweet queen," he grins, pressing himself against her so that she can feel the hard planes of his body and she whimpers,

"That is not a threat but a promise."

She swallows and draws herself up and away from temptation,

"We will be married on Winter Solstice," she swears, "If I have to dismantle Parliament and arrest them all to see it done."

She turns to leave, to step back out into the garden before pausing and looking over her shoulder to him,

"Shall we recall your brother for the wedding?" she suggests, "If we write to him now, he should hopefully be back in time."

Niklaus' face lit up like a summer's day and Caroline's heart skipped several beats, "I should like that very much."

She nods, "Then you must consider it done"

* * *

A/N- Short but sickly sweet.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N- For those who were confused about why Caroline refers to herself as 'We', it is known as the majestic plural.

* * *

Caroline awakes to the sound of music and a choir of young girls singing outside of her window.

Her beautiful water clock- a gift from her betrothed, in the shape of a ship- barely taps out the hour before there is a brisk knock at her door and the Lady Rebekah pokes her pretty little face in,

"Have you woken…Your Majesty?" her voice is sweet and loving, with only the hint of pause before addressing Caroline by her title.

Caroline stretches her arms above her head and sits up with a languorous smile,

"Mayhap," she sighs as she stretches her toes under the covers,

"Yet I cannot trust that this is reality and not some glorious dream."

Rebekah turns her head back to the army of women waiting outside,

"The Queen shall summon you all momentarily." She announced in an important, haughty tone, before slipping into the bed chamber, closing the door and running across the room to leap onto the bed,

"Today is your wedding day," she breathed excitedly, "Is that not _wonderful_?"

Caroline laughed at the young girl's bright smile, truly Niklaus had given her a gift bringing his sister to her rooms. Rebekah was a pretty young maid with a loving heart and kind nature, who had been so thrilled to be away from her boring brother Finn that she had brimmed over with energy and happiness, invigorating Caroline's ladies.

The first morning she had served the queen, she had brought her a posy of fresh flowers, something which was rarely seen at court yet had been much treasured. By the end of the first evening, Caroline and Niklaus had realised that if they handed sealed letters to Rebekah and told her they were naval reports, that she would carry them without thought from one to the other and back again without breaking the seal or holding the parchment up to light. She had been the unwitting carrier of many a long love letter between the two of them before she had come to the Chancellor's attention and he had intercepted a note, truly believing that it was a naval matter and therefore his concern until Caroline's poetic yearning for Niklaus' lips upon her breasts once more had made him aware of the situation.

Fortunately, he had burnt the letter, told Rebekah it was a very secret document and walked her back to the queen's presence chamber where he had drawn Caroline aside and warned her not to put such scandalous words to parchment, until she was married.

A marriage that he assured her had his full support as her chancellor and with his efforts had the full support of parliament as well.

Niklaus, it was declared, was as close to a suitable match as could be found for the Queen of England without turning to a foreign prince.

He was a hero, beloved by the people, yet his family was new blood so he would not bring legions of cousins to snatch up every last privilege in the land, nor would his family bring back the royal rivalries of the York, Plantagenet, Howard, or Seymour families, those who had never been able to forget that they had once had the throne and would give their eternal lives for the chance to have it back in their ambitious hands.

Nor did it hurt that the only family he did possess were his siblings, all from the same mother, and his eldest sister Freya, married to a German lord, had already born four children in five years, so he was clearly of fertile stock.

A matter of great concern for those of the land who had anxiously watched the union of Caroline's parents for twenty years and seen only one child survive to adulthood.

At the heart of it, the great lords of the kingdom saw a queen of two years on an unsteady throne with only a cousin in Scotland to succeed should she die heirless. They saw a young, healthy Englishman who she was clearly enamoured with and thus would happily go to bed with him until he got her with child, hopefully more than one for the security of the nation.

Niklaus Mikaelson might be an upstart, a third son, however he was an Englishman and better an Englishman for the queen's husband than a foreign prince who would make England a vassal state and bring his own countrymen, strangers to be given every place of honour at Court.

So, with their own interests at the forefront of their mind, the Parliament readily agreed that Queen Caroline had been most wise in her choice of husband and wished to see her married as speedily as possible.

Rebekah had been much more selfless in her excitement, when Caroline had returned to Whitehall, going straight to her privy chamber where she had asked Niklaus to wait for her, the young girl had forgot herself and thrown her arms around Caroline, hugging her tightly and calling her sister. In her mind, the union between her brother and the Queen was a fairy tale romance, the most wondrous thing. She refused to even consider the possibility that there were any political merits to Caroline and Niklaus' marriage, utterly certain that it had been love at first sight when Caroline had first commissioned him, fresh off his victory against the Scots, into her navy.

In truth, neither of them clearly remembered the first time that they had met, Caroline had been busy worrying about food shortages in the North and Niklaus had been recovering from a leg wound which he had taken a great many tonics for; however neither of them had the cold heart necessary to reveal this to Rebekah, so they let her dream.

Caroline had a small breakfast of sweet ale, bread and some fruit, too excited to eat properly, she kept looking to the door, waiting impatiently for her wedding gown to be brought in so that she might begin dressing.

It was a beautiful gown, cloth of gold with ermine trimmed sleeves and hundreds upon hundreds of white pearls stitched into the fabric, some even shaped to resemble waves. She would wear her hair down and flowing in the fashion of unmarried women and maids, with a silver coronet atop her head. Her shift and stockings were the purest white but her garter ribbons would be blue for the colour of Niklaus' eyes.

She swears that her women are hesitating as they dress her, lacing her into the gown and she taps her foot with impatience before Rebekah traps it into her gold heels and glances up at her,

"You look beautiful." she declares and Caroline cups her face and kisses her,

"Thank-you little one, go see to your brother and ask him if he is ready."

She darts off and Lady Elena checks the clock with confusion,

"Do we not yet have time, Your Majesty?" she asks with confusion, "I thought the ceremony was for midday?"

Caroline catches the eye of Lady Katherine, who is looking at her cousin with a mixture of exasperation and pity,

"Shall I check on the readiness of the Bishop, Your Majesty?" she asks and is sent away with a stifled laughter and murmured thanks.

* * *

The people of London had been most ardently wooed by Niklaus in preparation for the wedding. Since his investiture as Earl of Leicester, he had taken to visiting the families of the men who'd died under his command during his various battles, thanking the widows or mothers and gifting them small bags of coin, along with the promise that he would hear them if they ever came to him for help. When people had offered to pray for him, he had instead humbly asked them to pray for England's beautiful Queen, his eyes dropping down and a small smile playing on his face.

It hadn't taken long for the people to decide that their heroic and generous Earl must surely be in love with the Queen and when it had been announced that the two were to be married, there had been many a joyful toast to their happiness in the taverns. Especially as they were to be married in London, which meant a holiday for the people, during which wine would flow in the fountains, there would be much entertainment and gold coins would be thrown by the royal procession to the crowds as they left the abbey.

Which was why Caroline could hear the raucous cheers for Niklaus from the courtyard at Whitehall Palace as she waited impatiently for her mare to be brought out.

Niklaus stands waiting for her at the doors of the abbey, bowing gallantly when she reaches him, he offers her his arm and they make their way to the altar where the priest stands ready to marry them,

"I am the luckiest man in the world." he whispers as they kneel and she squeezes his hand.

* * *

The wedding feast is magnificent, the entire court claps as Caroline and her new husband, Prince Niklaus enter the great hall. He is seated on her left in the place of honour but his throne will be slightly lower than hers, to signify that she is still the ruling monarch. When they are settled, he also discovers that the position of the seats gives him the ability to lean over with ease and put his mouth to her ear,

"You look beautiful _my_ Queen" he murmurs and she blushes as the feast begins.

Thirty courses are brought out from the kitchens on golden plates while jugglers perform and musicians play. Caroline and Niklaus taste each dish and send it out to their favourites and friends, or in Niklaus' case, his true family- his siblings- and then those he'd counted as his friends before his rise to greatness.

They dine and then mummers come in to perform a masque, a re-enactment of Niklaus' victory over the Spanish and this is followed by confectioners coming in from the kitchen with sugar ships to be devoured by the court.

Caroline and Niklaus are given the largest ship and he breaks off a piece of the mast, holding it out to her and she takes it in her mouth, her lips closing around his fingers.

"My heart _yearns_ to be a dutiful husband" he whispers in her ear, his hand dropping down and settling on her thigh, patting and squeezing it through the gown and she bites her lip and links their fingers together.

She knows that she is not being very regal in that moment, but it is her wedding night to her handsome husband who made her heart skip when he smiled and who'd courted her so sweetly.

She clears her throat and looks to her Chancellor, summoning him with a crook of her finger,

"Your Majesty" he bows to her and then her husband, "Your highness"

"When should we close the court for the evening?" she asks him, keeping her voice formal and aloof, lest he read the truth in the hitch of her breath or the flash of her eyes.

"After all, we have other ceremonial duties to see to tonight."

"Your Majesty," the Chancellor frowned, "I don't under…"

"When can Caroline and I go to bed?" Niklaus demands, leaning over her to speak to the man, lacking the same concern she felt for decorum.

"This marriage has to be consummated to be legitimate after all."

The Chancellor stammered and glanced at the new Prince in a very disapproving manner,

"There are foreign dignitaries here to witness the wedding," he sniffs,

"We have to make an impressive show."

Niklaus sits back in his throne with a slump, "We also have to consummate the marriage" he points out again and Caroline lifts his hand to her lips to kiss it,

"We shall close the court at midnight" she promises and he uses her hand to tug her close and press his lips to hers.

His tongue swipes across her bottom lip and nudges her mouth open, slipping his tongue in and rubbing it gently against hers, ignoring the watching courtiers and she squirms in delight as his hand returns to her thigh,

"I doubt I have the strength to wait that long for _my_ Queen."

* * *

She finds that her own strength is severely tested as well, especially when they lead the court in dancing and her new husband's hands are constantly at her waist or during the Volta when he picks her up and they're pressed together when she returns to the ground.

"Is it midnight yet?" she asks her chancellor as he dances beside her with Lady Elena,

"There is still an hour to go, Your Majesty." he informs her with the merest hint of irritation, he's been playing the messenger for them all night and is most disapproving of their antics and continued kissing in front of the court.

Caroline sighs woefully as Niklaus releases her and takes Alaric by the arm, drawing him away from the dances and whispering in his ear, the chancellor pales and turns to him with a violent glance yet her husband only smiles and shrugs,

"Good news, my queen," her husband tells her as he bounds over and steals a kiss from her lips,

"It is time to close the court."

Caroline looks up at him suspiciously, "You did not threaten our chancellor's life we hope?"

His eyes are wide with faked innocence, "Never, my Queen, I simply told him that if another half hour came and we were still not abed, I would sit you on the table, lift your skirts and consummate the marriage there."

She glanced up at the table before her throne and frowned,  
"How could we consummate a marriage on a table?"

Niklaus puts his hands on her waist and draws her close for a loving kiss, "One day, mayhap you shall find out."


	5. Chapter 5

A/N- And we have the wedding night.

* * *

At the closing of the Court, Caroline's ladies in waiting surround her in a flurry of laughter and jests that border on inappropriate as they sweep her up to her rooms and begin the lengthy process of undressing her. She holds up her arms and her white nightgown is draped over her, before she is led to the bed, sliding beneath the covers just as Niklaus arrives.

With the Chancellor, Bishop and the highest ranked members of the Court on his heels.

He is taken behind a screen as his servant undresses him and hands him a nightshirt to wear as the room quickly fills up, people flirting and making ribald jokes as the wine is generously poured. Caroline merely waits, her back against the headboard as Lady Katherine comes forward and unlaces the bed curtains, allowing the sheer material to fall into place around the bed, providing the most privacy allowed for the consummation of a royal marriage.

When Niklaus climbs onto the mattress, he reaches for her at once, pressing himself against her side and slipping an arm about her shoulders, playing with a tendril of hair as they kiss sweetly.

"Lay down my queen" he orders her in a husky tone, "Let us begin"

Caroline bites her lip as she smiles and eases herself down onto the pillows and her husband hovers over her on one elbow, stroking her cheek and kissing her again, deeper this time and when he pulls away, she lifts her head to follow him and press their lips together again, drawing him back down.

She can feel the heat radiating from his body and her nightgown feels flimsy as she begins to tremble with excitement and anticipation, her hands acting of their own accord and touching the hard planes of his chest, pressing through the nightshirt and searching for his heart which she finds pounding away.

"It is yours." he swears as they break for air and his free hand touches her right breast and then trails down her stomach, to her thighs, where he pulls the nightgown up, bunching it to her waist. Caroline gasps in surprise as he reaches between her legs, one finger stroking up and down between the folds of her nether regions, his expression not changing even as her breathing quickens and her eyes widen as the finger enters her ever so slightly and when it leaves to push apart her thighs, she can feel the dampness against her skin.

She regrets now not having spoken her ladies beforehand, not having asked Lady Katherine, what she was supposed to do on her wedding night. As Queen she was not supposed to know these things, lest knowledge lead to indecent behaviour, all she had been told by her governess at ten years old was that she had to submit to her husband and provide an heir for the kingdom.

She had asked her governess how she was supposed to submit but only been told that her husband would know what she needed to do, yet she also had to remember that she was of royal stock and had to maintain her regal bearing at all times.

She is not very sure whether she is being regal now, with her bottom half bared to her husband who had taken her hand and was drawing it down to his…she wraps her hand around it and wonders if it is meant to be so hard and upright, it brings to mind a large sausage and she squeezes it curiously, running her hand up and down to determine the length. Niklaus groans and rests his forehead against hers,

"Oh Caroline," he murmurs, kissing her gently, "Are you ready, my sweet wife?"

 _Ready_? Had they not begun?

"Yes," she tells him, using her free hand to tug the covers up when Niklaus moves to hover atop her, his elbows either side of her and his legs between hers,

"Spread your thighs a little more," he instructs, his voice heavy and rough, "Now, put me inside you."

 _Inside_ her?

She frowns in confusion and he smiles lovingly, "All will be well," he swears, his eyes filled with assurance as he reaches down between them and takes his person, placing it at the entrance where his finger had been, "There will just be a little pain before the pleasure my sweetest heart."

She nods and closes her eyes, bracing herself for pain and crying out in shock when he is suddenly inside her, his entire length between her thighs and it is the most peculiar sensation, pain and pressure and without thought she bucks her hips, trying to dislodge him.

"Does it hurt too badly?" Niklaus asks, his face mere inches from hers, his voice low and the colour high on his cheeks, his eyes bright and his lips wet by his tongue. Caroline allows herself a moment and ponders on the question, the pain is receding and somehow, the pressure is not unpleasant.

"We…I am well," she decides, "Is the pain bearable for you?"

He smiles with a soft chuckle, "Worry not for me, my love."

He draws himself out then, slowly and she frowns, wondering if that is all there is to consummation when he pushes himself back in and she relaxes, relieved that there is more to the act.

Much more. The third time he moves within her she begins to feel quite nice and arches her hips in delight the next time he fills her, a moan escaping her lips as something slowly coils in her stomach. His actions are steady and done well in her opinion, she finds herself panting and whimpering in excitement, her fingers gripping the sheets beneath her as her husband toils above her. Her eyelids flutter closed as the coiling in her stomach becomes tighter and her toes curl as her body rises more eagerly to meet his own, spots dances before her eyes and her body is surely on fire as something within her snaps and she cries out, her head tilting back on the pillow before she feels a sensation of falling, her fingers loosing on the sheets as she trembles all over and her legs go limp.

Five more thrusts and Niklaus whispers her name before burying his face in her neck and something warm shoots inside her. Caroline wiggles slightly to accommodate her husband's weight atop her body, deciding that she does not mind as his warm breath tickles her neck and his chest presses against her breasts.

"Your Majesty?"

With great unwillingness, she opens her eyes to see that her Chancellor has parted the curtains and is standing beside the Bishop,

"Your Majesty, do you declare the marriage consummated?"

Caroline blushes as she finally notices the applause of the men in the room, "Oh…yes," she answers,

"Yes it was consummated."

With a gentle prod, Niklaus rolls off her and they both sit up as she is handed a roll of parchment and a quill, her hand is still trembling slightly but she signs her name to the declaration.

With the ceremony done, Lady Katherine clears the room as maids enter to remove the sheets for the public viewing. Caroline sits up and notes that there is a slight ache between her thighs, Niklaus climbs out of the bed and retreats out of the way to the seat beside the fireplace. The room is warm but Caroline still notices the thin material of her nightgown and her eyes stray to her husband's bare legs, noting the golden hairs on them and wondering whether it would be improper to one day touch them. The maids are giving her looks out of the corner of their eyes and she wonders if she appears any different than from before, if there is something in her face or her bearing.

Perhaps her smile gives something away.

He leans back in the chair and holds out a hand for her, "Come, sweet heart"

She takes his hand and they stand before the merrily crackling fire, he draws her fingers to his mouth and kisses them,

"How fare you?" he asks gently and she glances down at her bare feet with a smile,

"Well," she says in a low voice, "It is a strange act but I like it well."

Niklaus grins and tugs her forward, parting his knees until she stands between his thighs as much as she is able with the night shirt still covering him,

"You will grow to love it," he promises, "To yearn for it and mayhap even come to beg for it."

She quirks an eyebrow, "I am a queen," she points out, "Queens do not beg."

He laughs loudly, and one of the maids is startled, "To demand it then, my beautiful queen"

He reaches up and takes her about the waist, pulling her down until she is perched on his lap, he slides an arm about her waist and the other cups her left breast through her nightgown,

"Treasure this silk" he murmurs, "For it is the last time you shall be dressed in your bedchamber."

She shifts on his lap, starting to feel warm in her stomach again,

"And you?" she asks, her eyes trailing down the length of his body, "Shall you be as unclothed as I am?"

He grins and kisses her neck, biting down on the flesh gently and she gasps and leans into him,

"Verily, we shall both be naked as heathens as we have our fill of each other."

Her nipple becomes hard under his touch and his hand drops to her lap, pushing up her nightgown until his hand can slip between her thighs and cup her, she squirms against his touch until he pushes two fingers inside her and she whimpers, spreading her legs further apart as his fingers plunder her.

"My queen and wife," he growls in her ear, withdrawing his fingers and holding them up before her, showing them to be wet before he resumes his ministrations,

"My sweet heart with the sweet cunny." He smirks as she writhes against his hand,

"I am going to spend all of this night with my cock inside you, Queen Caroline, I shall swive you until the sun rises and you are spent"

"Yet…" Caroline looks to him in confusion, "I thought the marriage had been consummated? That we had done our duty for the night?"

Niklaus shakes his head in mirth, "Oh no my sweet heart, what we did just then was for the Crown, you surrendered your maidenhead and I showed my virility, both of which shall be proven by the bed sheets. Now…" he pauses as she gasps and clenches around his fingers, trembling as she clenches her eyes shut,

"Now, Caroline our duty is to our bodies and our desires."

He holds her against him and stands up, she squeals as he carries her to the bed, stopping at the foot, sitting her down on the covers and unlacing the front of her nightgown until it falls off her body, "Our rampant desires," he says before pulling his nightshirt off, "Which we shall work hard all night to satiate."

"You sound greedy," she laughed, "Like a hungry man at a feast."

He smiles and moves forward, advancing on her and she moved to the centre of the bed to make room for him, "I am hungry," he agrees, "And now, I shall feast."

* * *

A/N- I know many will be disappointed that this was not the smut that you were looking for (see: next chapter) but I decided on historical accuracy instead.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N- I am so sorry I didn't realise that I had forgotten to post this.

Forgive me!

* * *

Her husband.

Her husband the Prince.

Her husband the Prince Niklaus.

 _Niklaus_.

Caroline started when she saw that she had begun to sign her name with an N instead of a C and blushed guiltily, glancing up at Alaric through lowered lashes to see if he had noticed.

Thankfully, he had not and she is able to correct the mistake, although her signature looks clumsy on the decree.

She clears her throat and reaches for the cup of wine beside her, drinking it to steady herself, even as she wonders where her husband is.

Her husband.

Her smile nearly has wine spilling onto her gown and she pushes the goblet away with an irritated cough,

"Is that all for today?" she asks as her Chancellor lifts his head, blinking owlishly as if, in the quiet of her study, he had forgot her presence entirely.

"There are some reports…" he begins but in the distance, they hear the sound of a ringing laugh and the feet coming down the hall.

Moments later, the door is opened and Niklaus enters, a breath of fresh air in the stuffy room, stamping his feet and shaking the rain drops from his hair.

"All that time at sea and I nearly drown on land," he laments, tearing off his gloves and reaching for her as she eagerly rises from her chair,

"My sweet queen, you were nearly widowed today. You have your brother-in-law to thank for that"

"Perish the thought," Caroline replied beaming, receiving a loving kiss that has her knees weak and her hands gripping his shoulders.

They've been married for one night and one hundred kisses and still, he overwhelms her. When she can breathe again she clucks with disapproval at the sight of his damp clothes and draws him over to the fireplace, so far forgetting her royal dignity as to pull his cloak off his shoulders herself and tend to him like a common wife.

"Your Majesty," Elijah finally enters the room with his elegant, stately gait and bows deeply but with a humoured smile,

"You must forgive your husband whatever lies he has told you, for I told him with all the clearness of a bell not to ride out when the day threatened rain."

Niklaus looks over his shoulder to laugh at his older brother, but kept his hands on her waist, his thumbs stroking her through the velvet of her gown,

"Yes you told me, knowing as your younger brother I would have no option but to refuse you,"

He turns back to her and kisses her lips lovingly, his hands on her lower back to embrace her and draw her closer to him,

"He is treacherous my sweetest heart, what fate shall befall him?"

"We would have the head of any that threatened you harm," she swears, touching his wet jacket with a frown, slipping her fingers between his open collar and thrilling for the chance to touch him, to stroke his bare skin before witnesses "Did you enjoy your stead?"

He nods enthusiastically, "He's a magnificent beast, I like him well"

"Then he is yours," she smiles, "He was gifted to me as one fit for a prince."

Niklaus kisses her cheek in thanks and she pulls backward when she senses his trembling, looking to the window she sees that the day outside had grown grey with fog and rain,

"We must get you out of those clothes immediately," she announces,

"Before you catch the fugue."

She strides to the door and catches a passing servant, about to order him to fill the copper bath in her rooms before smiling to herself and changing the order, quietly so that no-one else would hear.

"Alaric," she takes her husband's hand and smiles apologetically at her Chancellor, "Any pressing matters shall be dealt with after dinner."

Her Chancellor sighs as if this marriage of one night is already a burden upon him but Elijah invites him for a game of cards and the man relents.

Caroline tugs on Niklaus' hand, "Come," she beckons, biting her lip with excitement,

"We have something we would show you."

Niklaus laughs as she leads him from the room,

"Would this be the same something I gazed upon to mine heart's content this morning?"

Caroline blushed with a guilty smile as she glances about, fortunately despite many courtiers lingering in the hall, none appear to have heard him,

"No," she murmurs, "Perchance you will see that later."

He growls and lunges forward, catching her around the hips and swinging her about as she shrieked with gaiety,

"Put me down, you rogue!" she demands laughingly,

"Treat your queen with respect."

He surrenders her with an exaggerated bow, "Mayhap if my queen did not have the sweetest cunny in the kingdom, I would restrain myself better."

She gasps and looks about, smacking down her skirts to try and mask her husband's words, before glaring playfully at him and spinning on her heel to walk away.

She leads him through the Palace to a door where a liveried page is waiting, the doors are opened with a flourish and she takes his hand, pulling him into the rooms,

"They were completed yesterday, yet with no time to be prepared for us both," she explains at his confused frown, "These were the King's rooms and now they shall be yours."

"Do they please you?" she asks with a smile as she sweeps past him to go to the Privy chamber,

"No." he says decidedly and she stops in surprise, hurt lancing her heart,

"Why not?"

He stalks towards her and his hands clamp back onto her waist,

"Why would I need a bed separate from yours?" he questions and despite the seriousness of his tone she can see the playful glint in his eyes, her heart recovering from the wound,

"Methinks you are trying to neglect your wifely duties."

He walks them backwards until she finds herself pressed to a tapestry and inhales sharply as he crowds against her until her skirts are trapped between her thighs, he ducks his head and steals a passionate kiss, his tongue plundering her mouth and her fingers tremble as they rest atop his arms.

She can feel his codpiece pushing against her skirt and begins to grow damp with arousal as he severs their kiss and his lips trail slowly down up her cheek before travelling down to her neck.

"Admit it," he growls in her ear, before biting and sucking on her flesh,

"Admit that you are a disobedient wife."

She shakes her head proudly and then struggles to keep herself upright as he tickles her mercilessly,

"Peace," she begged and marked her surrender with another kiss while his fingers fumbled beneath the skirts of her gown.

* * *

The servants haul water from the kitchens into the copper bathtub in Niklaus' new bedchamber and Caroline waves them out.

With unskilled fingers, she undresses her husband, admiring his naked form as he sinks into the steaming water with a pleasured sigh. He opens an eye when he hears her rummaging around,

"What do you seek, sweetest heart?"

She holds up the cloth triumphantly before kneeling down beside the tub and wetting it in the water, lifting it up dripping to stroke at his neck, he captures her hand as her hand slides down his chest.

"Careful, my love." Niklaus murmurs when the cloth and her hand stray down to his member,

"Why?" she pulls her hand back quickly, "Have I hurt you?"

Caroline had learnt enough from the delicate questions her ladies had asked her that morning to know that sometimes, love making could be painful, and the last thing she wanted to do was cause her husband pain.

He reaches up and strokes her cheek, "No, I am well but if you end up in the water with me in that dress we shall sink and never emerge."

She leans over and kisses him, "Then mayhap I should undress?"

He springs out of the bathtub as she show her back for him to unlace her gown, stepping out of the voluminous skirts until she is in her shift, which she has to remove in a hurry lest her new husband tear it off.

He jerks his head towards the bed but she finds herself glancing at the card table and remembering his words at their wedding feast.

"Niklaus…" she pauses as she wonders whether she is being truly scandalous,

"Yes, my queen?"

"Verily, is it possible to fulfil marital duties on a table?" she inquires quietly but he chuckles with delight,

"Yes…now come," he holds out a hand and she slips her in, letting him lead her to the table, "Sit here, facing me," he instructs gently, helping her lift herself up onto the wood.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N- Hello. So I'm participating in National Novel Writing Month under the name At the other end of the world. I'm going to be rewriting Alpha Female from fanfiction to original story and I'm looking for buddies.

* * *

The morning came with the trill of a noisy bird outside their window, nearly interrupting their lovemaking.

Lying on her back, with her husband atop her, Queen Caroline wrapped her arms around his shoulders as he moved within her, burying her face in his neck as she trembled and clenched around him, her eyes squeezing shut as she saw stars. He groans her name as he spills his seed inside her and they have a brief moment of paradise before the bird resumes its call.

" _Wretched creature!_ " Niklaus seethes as he pushes himself up, the blankets sliding off them and Caroline releases her husband with loving reluctance, letting him slip from her arms to stalk over to the window. He pulls it open and fetches an apple from their cupboard in the corner, spotting the guilty bird and taking aim.

"Do not kill the starling, I beg you." Caroline calls from the bed, stretching on the sheets, as gloriously naked as her husband, his buttocks bared to her as he looks over his shoulder,

"As you wish, my beloved queen." He smiles and throws the apple, deliberately aiming for the tree branch, enough to scare the bird but not harm it.

The winter air is chilly but the fire has been stoked and the fresh country morning is intoxicating, so her husband of two months lingers by the open window and she studies him with such contentment and adoration.

' _I am carrying your child,_ ' she thinks to herself as the slightest of breezes rustles through his hair and her hand comes to cradle her stomach,  
' _I am certain of it_.'

She had missed her last two courses and, with a female intuition, knows that she will miss the next one and shall be able to send for a midwife for confirmation. She is with child, the heir to the throne of England, but more importantly, Niklaus' child.

"Elijah should arrive today," he muses, pushing away from the window and returning to the bed, lying down beside her and trailing a finger over her breasts, his flesh chilled against her warm skin,

"Shall we welcome him in your rooms or in mine?"

If Elijah were not her brother by marriage, he would not be welcomed back at all.

Shortly after her own marriage, Lady Katherine's father had made an agreement with Lord Ford to marry her to his son Trevor.

A good marriage, if not one that the Lady Katherine had wished for, the betrothal ceremony had been scheduled and it was not until the feasting afterwards that Elijah, a newly titled Marquis, had gone to Katherine's father with evidence that Trevor was already secretly wed.

Two years prior he had entered into a contract with the widow of a merchant, married in a church with documentation to prove the act and the woman was still alive and well.

In the ensuing chaos, with the women sent to their rooms so that the men could speak freely, Lady Katherine's family had accused Lord Trevor's of every dishonourable action and trait under God's sky, and Lord Trevor's father nearly suffered an apoplectic fit over the revelation. The men had been arguing so loudly and the women so shocked that it was a full hour before anyone realised that the Lady Katherine was not in her room.

The next morning, the palace guards had been searching every inch of Hampton Court when Niklaus had received a letter from his brother, admitting to the abduction of Lady Katherine and his intention to marry her.

He and Caroline had ridden to his manor in Leicester where Elijah had taken her but they had arrived too late. Elijah had already taken Lady Katherine to bed and signed a contract of betrothal and marriage, all that was left was for the priest to perform the ceremony.

Or that is what he claimed.

Lady Katherine had tearfully confirmed Elijah's word that he had dishonourably taken her virtue but when asked about the bedsheets, had confessed to burning them to try and hide her shame.

Verily, Queen Caroline would bet her favourite diamond necklace that an examination would find Lady Katherine's maidenhead still very much intact, yet even such a finding would not be enough to save her reputation. Nor would Caroline's own husband be spared in the ensuing scandal, therefore, when the priest arrived, the queen and prince reluctantly witnessed the union.

However, Caroline could not forgive such a blatant show of disrespect against one of the women in her retinue, nor could she overlook the prince's brother, a member of the royal family marrying without first seeking permission from the Crown.

As such, she had ordered that Lady Katherine- or Marchioness Katherine as she was now, return to Court with her and that Elijah go to Scotland as an envoy in the trade agreement that was underway.

That had been three months prior and now, he was to return, having completed his mission with resounding success but not to be rewarded for it.

Still, his brother missed him too dearly to have remained angry with him for long and yearned to have his family together once more, so Caroline sweetly suggested they meet in his rooms, without the watchful eyes of the Court upon them.

Another hour later and her ladies were waiting at the door while Niklaus stood at the secret passage connecting their two rooms, leaving rather reluctantly, he had Caroline wrapped up tight in his arms, her naked body pressed against his robe while he kissed her to his heart's content.

"Shall we have to command you to let us go?" Caroline laughed as her husband's hand strayed deviously between her thighs,

"We have state matters to attend to."

"You have conjugal matters to attend to as well my sweetest heart," Niklaus counters cheekily before stealing another kiss,

"And I would be the least dutiful of husbands if I let you avoid them."

She moaned as his fingers delved expertly within her cunny and lifted her leg to grant him better access, letting him plunder her to his heart's content.

"A moment." She calls at the knocking on her door,

"I will summon you when I'm ready."

She hears the muffled reply of consent and her husband's groan before she finds herself being pressed against the wall, shivering at the wooden panelling against her back as Niklaus divests himself of his robe. She so adores his beautiful body, which she treasured to maddening distraction and goes to sink to her knees before he stops her, hoisting her up with her legs wrapping around his waist.

"There are not enough hours in the day for me to share you with the Court." Her handsome husband grumbles as he begins swiving her and she whimpers at the pleasure he makes her feel.

"Verily, I do love you so," She gasps as her back hits the panelling with gentle thumps,  
"Oh Niklaus, please tell me that you return my love."

He stills in his actions and presses his forehead against hers,  
"You are Queen of my heart and soul," he swears, his breath warm on her face,  
"I remember nothing before my love for you and will refuse to consider any possibility of life without it."

With tears in her eyes, she kisses him tenderly and wordlessly urges him to continue his ministrations until she's trembling and spent.

"Stay," she tries ordering as she sinks shakily into his favourite chair by the fireplace, "Stay and I shall clean you with my hands and mouth."

He growls with pleasure at the thought and leans over her, his member brushing against her thighs,

"Every moment that image distracts me today will be an hour we spend coupling tonight my sweetest heart, verily mayhap I should release you, methinks I hear Alaric beyond your door."

Caroline scowls with guilt at the thought of her Chancellor, the poor man was often kept waiting in the mornings and forced to retire from her rooms early in the evenings so that she could be with her husband.

So with a reluctant sigh she releases him and calls for her ladies to enter to wash and dress her for the day.

* * *

Caroline glared down at the map before her and cursed the Spanish king with all her heart.

"They dare invade our waters… _again_!" she demands of Alaric,

"Shall we have to light England's shores with bonfires built from the wreckage of Spanish ships again? Shall we pray for the smoke to blow across the Channel and choke the damn, treacherous French?!"

Alaric sighs at her angry words and rubs his forehead,

"Verily I do not know why they once again seek to trouble us, yet, with your permission Your Majesty, I would seek a more peaceful solution than warfare."

Caroline smiled at her Chancellor, the man was the son of a merchant who had scraped his way to Court and lacked the blood thirsty desire for war, seeing, not triumph but the costs.

"We shall not beg the foolhardy king for peace," she announces,

"Yet, perchance, if there is a chance for peace with Spain or an alliance against them with France, we shall consider it."

He nods eagerly, "Good. We should be sad to see Prince Niklaus have to leave your side to command the navy."

For a moment, the world around Caroline goes dark and she puts a hand on the table to steady herself.

Fool that she was, she had not thought of the consequences of war, that her husband would want to lead his men into battle, that he might die in the attempt. That he might encounter death on the end of a Spanish sword, or drown in the sea, fighting against the waves and choking on the salty water…

" _No_ ," the word spills from her lips, "No, our husband will not leave our side."

She struggles to lift her head and Alaric is watching her with concern,

"Are you well, Your Majesty?"

She can't bring herself to reassure him, she only waves a hand and turns to her ladies,

"Come," she orders them, her voice weak as she sways on her feet,

"We must meet our good brother, the Marquis."

There's a frantic whisper and then an arm is linked through hers without her permission, one arm and then two, she finds them gripping her tightly and looks on either side to see the Lady Rebekah and Katherine standing beside her.

"I am so excited to see my brother again," Lady Rebekah gushes with an all-too bright smile on her lips,

"It's been so long; I am certain he shall have changed greatly."

Marchioness Katherine laughter rings with falsity, "Come, dear sister, Elijah is unchanging, like an evergreen tree, tall, dignified and steadfast."

Lady Rebekah frowns, "I am not sure my brother will be happy that you are comparing him to a tree, good-sister."

"No?" Marchioness Katherine puts her free hand over her heart, her natural wit coming to play,  
"What shall I compare him to then? A horse mayhap?"

The ladies titter in amusement and are distracted from their concern over the Queen. Caroline takes a step forward and allows her two good-sisters either side of her to walk with her to Niklaus' rooms, sending away the rest of her retinue for what is to be a private meeting and arriving there to find her husband absent and they deposit her in her chair under the Canopy of State.

"Are you well, Your Majesty?" Lady Rebekah asks anxiously, kneeling before her and rubbing her hands between her own,

"She is well, sweet Rebekah." Marchioness Katherine answers for her in a calculating voice,

"Perchance, she is very well indeed."

"I will thank-you not to spread rumours," Caroline snaps at her lady-in-waiting,

"Unless you wish to retire to your father's estate for a spell?"

Without her husband, is the implied threat and Katherine lifts her shoulders in feigned naiveté,

"I simply wished to convey my doubts that you were ill, my Queen."

She curtseys with all the elegance of a Frenchwoman and sweeps over to the window to look out to the road,

"Methinks your husband has ridden out to meet my husband…ah yes, I can see them coming now."

* * *

By the time Niklaus and Elijah come through the doors, Caroline has regained her composure and stands to greet the pair, her hands steady as they approach her.

Elijah is as dignified as ever, albeit with a chagrined and cautious air about him. He kneels before her and gives a speech of apology and regret for his transgressions and the upset they caused her, although with every word he speaks his eyes flicker over to his wife, who is waiting with clear impatience, her hands clasped behind her back but her foot tapping away underneath her skirts.

"We shall forgive you this time," Caroline tells him, allowing him to kiss her ring,  
"Yet if you ever disrespect us in such a manner again you shall find yourself in the Tower."

The siblings all visibly wince at the thought and Niklaus comes forward and places an arm around her waist, "Fear not, beloved wife," He tells her with a humorous smile, "I shall beat sense into my brother if he plans to carry off another one of your ladies and take a second wife."

Caroline laughs and kisses his cheek, "Good, we shall expect you to keep your siblings in line for us. Now, come," she turns to them, "Let us eat."

She sees the longing glance Elijah and Katherine cast each other and knows that the two of them would much rather go to their marriage bed, yet if Caroline has to spend the rest of the day without her husband's embrace then they shall wait also.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N- Maaaayyyyyyy be straying from Caroline's POV in the next two chapters I'm afraid.

* * *

"Marriage?!" Queen Caroline could not resist the laugh that bubbled up within her, escaping her lips even as she pressed a hand to her mouth to try and still them.

"Verily, w _ho_ is to be married?" she demands, "Us? Shall we take a second husband? Perhaps we could rotate him with Niklaus, or…take them both to bed at the same time?"

It had been whispered to her once- by Lady Katherine, _of course_ \- that the King of France would take more than one woman to bed with him at a time, but Caroline was not French and not a man, such things were bizarre to her.

Alaric allowed himself a small chuckle as he poured himself a cup of wine, even as she was raising a hand for a servant to do so.

She pouted but he did not realise his transgression and she let it pass,

"The Spanish ambassador would have approached you with this offer had he been allowed at Court following the last battle between our nations," he reports dutifully,

"Yet as he was forbidden until the New Year, by the time he was able to meet with me, you were already betrothed to the Prince Nikaus."

Caroline nearly crosses herself with relief, glad that she had- albeit somewhat petulantly- forbade the ambassador entry to her Court and to her presence.

Otherwise she would not be married to the love of her life at this very moment.

And expecting his child.

She nearly presses her hand to her jewelled stomacher, over her womb where her heir was growing yet lays it on her neck and readjusts her collar instead when she sees her Chancellor eyeing her sharply.

Since her wedding night, it felt like everyone in England had been observing her, waiting on tenterhooks for the news that she was carrying an heir.

It had only been three months, yet already, mothers were approaching her with advice on how to fall pregnant.

Tips on tonics to drink, fruits to eat and herbs to place on her stomach.

Verily, it was all so bothersome. She wanted to tell them all to go away, that she was hardly barren yet at the same time, she wanted to treasure this secret a little longer.

"Well," Caroline raises her eyebrows, "As I am married and happily so, whom does the Emperor propose he marry? You, mayhap?"

Alaric nearly rolls his eyes before remembering that she is his Queen and settles for clearing his throat,

"He proposed the marriage of his natural born son Don Carlos to the Lady Rebekah, as she is your sister-in-la…"

"No," Caroline shook her head, "We have heard what kind of man Don Carlos is, we would sooner marry our little sister to the Devil and consider it a better bargain."

Thankfully, her Chancellor nods, "I guessed you would say as much, he also has a daughter, legitimate and very beautiful, whomever marries her would become a Spanish Prince."

Caroline wrinkles her nose in distaste at the thought,

"I presume you mean to offer one of my brothers-in-law this opportunity?" she states, glancing over her shoulder, to the privy chamber door where her husband and his family were still dining, chatting and laughing gaily while she held their future in her hands.

"The ambassador suggested that…as the marriage was barely legal…that mayhap an annulment between the Marquis and his wife could be arranged." Alaric reports dutifully yet she scoffs before he even finishes,

"Were we even in a mind to sever the ties between Elijah and Katherine, the ensuing scandal would be ruinous for the pair of them, not to mention the danger of dear, sweet Katherine slitting her usurpers throat as she slept."

Alaric quirks an eyebrow as he sips on his wine, "Would she really be so determined to keep her husband?" he questions doubtfully,

"She has many suitors who would gladly bargain for her hand."

Caroline shook her head, "Nay. She is a woman in a world made for men, a dangerous world where the only status we can achieve is as the daughter, wife, mother or sister of our owners. Even myself, Queen of England, I am now addressed by foreigners as Queen Caroline, wife of Prince Niklaus. They believe that he rules through me and wonders why he is yet to be crowned king. In choosing Elijah, Katherine made a decision for herself, an act of rebellion she may never be allowed again. It would be cruel and dangerous to take that from her."

"How about our brother Kol?" she suggests, "He is young, only seven and ten however I am sure that he can be groomed to be worthy of a princess before the negotiations are complete?"

Alaric nodded, "As Your Majesty wishes."

She smiles, glad for the chance for peace and a celebration of marriage rather than a "We shall speak to him now."

* * *

However, any plans Caroline had to speak to her young brother-in-law were forgotten when she re-entered the chamber to find that her older brother-in-law and his wife were suspiciously absent.

Niklaus bounds over to her and sweeps her up in his arms, kissing her soundly, his tongue plundering her mouth until her knees are weak and she cannot even remember why she was feeling such annoyance,

"It is a beautiful day my sweetest heart," her husband declares, his eyes shining and his hands firmly on her waist, "We should go riding, or even hunting mayhap."

Caroline is blushing from their kiss and puts her hand on his chest to steady herself,

"I cannot go riding my dear husband." she murmurs with a secretive smile on her face.

Niklaus groans and pulls her closer to him, "Leave the papers and emissaries and all that bother for one day," he begs,

"We can race through the forest along that path you love so dearly."

Caroline's smile widens and she glances to Kol and Rebekah who are bickering with each other and paying no attention to their queen or prince,

"It is not a matter of my willingness to please you, my love," she tells him as she reaches for his hand and places it on her stomacher,

"It is that I will not be able to ride until next winter at the earliest."

Niklaus looks down at her dress with puzzlement, trying to comprehend her meaning when enlightenment reaches him and his eyes widen,

"You are not?" he whispers, giving a laugh of disbelief.

"I am," she nods eagerly, "I shall need a midwife to confirm yet I am certain that I am."

With a shout of joy, her husband lifts her in the air, spinning her in a circle before bringing her down for a smacking kiss.

"We should call the midwife and a physician," he decides, pulling back from her,

"Verily, right this moment so that we can know when the child will come,"

He kisses her cheek and takes her hands, leading her back to his siblings,

"Rebekah, see Caroline to her bed," he orders his sister, "She needs rest."

Caroline opens her mouth to assure him that she does not when he gives her a meaningful glance and she realises that he is going to smuggle the midwife and physician to see her in secret.

* * *

It is early evening when Niklaus sends the midwife and physician back down the servants' stairs, paying them handsomely to tell no-one why they had come to the Court.

Caroline is sitting by the hearth while her husband lights the tapers and builds a fire, she reaches out and lazily runs her fingers through his hair until he rests his head against her knee,

"Are you sure you are not hungry for apples?" he asks with concern and she taps his side gently with her foot, "I am sure, my husband."

Having seen his mother pregnant four times, three successfully, Niklaus was of the belief that all women craved apples when they were with child.

All Caroline craved at that moment was to be with her husband in their bedroom with nary a concern in the world.

So she leans back in her chair and closes her eyes, thinking only of the pleasant smell of the burning log and the softness of her husband's hair.

* * *

Outside her rooms, in the gallery, where the courtiers had gathered to listen to music and play cards, Marchioness Katherine slowly slipped from behind a tapestry into the crowd, trying to smile with ease as she hopes the activities of her day aren't writ plain on her face.

Her husband climbs the stairs at the other end of the room and is greeted in a bawdy manner by his younger brother whose tongue is wagging with jokes until he is cuffed over the head by both siblings present.

Katherine approaches them casually, slipping her arm into Elijah's and running her eyes over him to make sure that his clothes were in order. They shared a smile full of secrets that led a path from the palace to a cottage in the forest where a bed had been lain with luxurious furs and their marriage finally consummated.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N- This story is actually getting longer than I planned.

* * *

Princess Catarina Maria de Aragona bit her lip and resisted the urge to burst into tears as her procession approached the harbour.

She forced herself to smile through her heavy veil and wave at the watching citizens, even as she gripped her horses reins so tightly that she nearly tore her silk gloves.

A grand ship was before her, ready to sail her to a grand future.

Yet beneath the royal sails and well dressed sailors, the treasure chests below deck, she saw the green stains on the wood and the terror ahead for her.

She was sailing in autumn, a dangerous time, to a country where she- a Spanish Princess- was an enemy and to a husband of whom she knew nothing.

Nothing except that he was brother to the Englishman who had destroyed the Spanish navy.

Her father, the Emperor, had traded his first born daughter, for peace with England.

Worse still, she was not fool enough to think that this peace would be anything but fleeting, the moment her father rebuilt the navy, the moment England was weak, he would attack again.

She would then be the detested _hostage_ Spanish Princess.

Her own cousin had declared that she would not wager a single coin for the princess to see her next name day.

Neither the Emperor or the Empress were in attendance and her younger brother, the one whom had taken her chance at the crown of the Spanish Empire from her, is waiting impatiently to put her on the ship, glaring warningly at her as she is dismounted.

She had tried her best to argue with her father, to make him see reason, she had even runaway and hid when the day of her marriage by proxy ceremony had come and one of the Emperor's menservants had been forced to lift and carry her down the aisle.

"If I board this ship, I shall be going to my death." She tells him, yet he only sighs as if she being a child.

"Then at least do _that_ obediently."

* * *

Caroline was the very picture of wifely obedience as she settled back against the pillows, smiling to show her husband how comfortable she was as the royal barge rocked gently on the river.

She rests her hands on her stomach, barely showing beneath her loosened gown and waits patiently as he fusses with the velvet curtains and the heated bricks at her feet,

"You are aware that we shall be on the water less than an hour?" she chides gently as he once again looks into the river, trying to foresee danger in the almost calm tide.

"The moment the waters turn rough we are docking," he decrees, "I ordered a litter to drive along the riverside as much as possible so that we can be met."

Seeing that their brother has determined the barge to be safe, his siblings and Katherine come aboard, chatting merrily amongst themselves and settling around Caroline, each of them taking their turn to make sure that their Queen had everything she desired to be comfortable.

"You will all either disembark when I tell you or learn to swim." Their brother and captain for the day warns them.

Caroline laughs and gives the signal for the barge to push off from the docks, the drummer beating for the rowers to keep time as they began moving downriver.

In the space of a year, Kol had gone from the fourth son of a minor lord to the brother of the Queen and Prince Consort.

He had risen high with a bright future ahead of him and had been fully set on enjoying it.

He had been rather displeased when Caroline had told him that he was to be married for the sake of peace. Therefore, she had sought to win him over with the promise of princely riches, amongst them being an increased royal allowance and his own palace.

A rather grand new palace that had only been built in her father's reign, on a sprawling stretch of fertile green land, with room for a garden to be designed and outdoor parties to be thrown.

Kol and Rebekah bound from the dock and race each other up the green to the wide, double oak doors excitedly, with the rest of the family following sedately for Caroline's sake.

When they enter, Rebekah is staring at the many glass windows with admiration and Kol has sat himself on the large chair at the head of the table,

"Just think, big brother," he crows to Elijah,

"Had you not been so hasty in your marriage, all this might have been _yours_."

Elijah laughs and slips his arm around Katherine's slight waist,

"I would rather be the poorest man in the world and married to the woman I love than the richest and unhappy."

He kisses her cheek which she offers with a pleased smile, "Myself, I would rather the crown but I shall settle for thee." She retorts teasingly, winking boldly at the queen as she sweeps past in her new gown of red velvet.

Kol's pleasant façade clouds over slightly at his brother's response. For the last three months, he had enjoyed being the centre of attention at the festivities for his betrothal and his marriage by proxy, yet, Caroline considered, mayhap he had not given much thought to his new wife.

Fortunately, Katherine, eager to prove her worth to her new family, had befriended the Spanish ambassador and, over endless games of cards, had wrought what little details about the Princess she could from him.

"She was raised in a convent with her grandmother, the Empress dowager," she'd revealed to them triumphantly,

"As she had a brother and the Emperor a male heir, not much attention was paid to her, she visited the royal court only rarely so he does not know much about her, beside what he was told to report to us, she is educated and pleasing to the eye."

Since her birth, Queen Caroline had been betrothed and nearly married six times, all to foreign princes varying in age, appearance, qualities and sanity, therefore, as the Princess was without obvious deformities or tendencies towards insanity, she considered her good-brother to be quite lucky.

Mayhap, Kol had been hoping for more.

Caroline rests her hands on her stomach as the baby stirs within her, "We are sure she is a lovely girl," she tells him soothingly as Niklaus brings a chair for her to sit down in,

"Perchance, you will enjoy decorating this palace for the two of you to make a merry home?"

Kol smiles at the thought and lifts his head, sniffing the air eagerly as the servants come in, bringing the dishes that had been ordered for the light meal.

Caroline eyes the quail eggs eagerly and Niklaus leans right over his sister to fetch her the plate. They eat as a family, without ceremony, so Katherine is beside her, telling her all the naughty gossip of the Court, which- as the Queen- she should not be made aware of when a breathless messenger bursts into the room.

He takes the knee before the Queen as she slowly turns to face him, yet hands the written missive to Niklaus,

"What is wrong?" Caroline demands as her husband breaks the seal and peruses the message before cursing,

"The ships bringing the Spanish princess to England have been attacked by the French," he tells her,

"Two have been sunk already and the one bearing the royal seal is floundering."

Caroline's eyebrows shoot up, "How does the Princess fare?"

He shakes his head, "They are unaware, yet they believe that the ship is trying to make it to our waters," he stands and takes her hand,

"Give me leave to go and fetch her, with our navy, I can drive the French away and bring the ship to land."

Caroline the wife wants to refuse this request, to demand that he stay onshore by her side, safe and loved, yet Caroline the Queen knows that if any man can wrest a victory on the seas, it is the one before her, "Go with God and my blessing," she tells him, placing a hand on his hair lovingly,

"We shall meet you in Dover."


	10. Chapter 10

A/N- Sorry this took so long, hoping everyone enjoys this chapter.  
Btw- to the Guest who complained because I wasn't being historically accurate- F*** You! I mentioned previously that this was written for fun, not for historical accuracy, so coming in to complain about that is like walking into a McDonalds and complaining because they won't serve you KFC.

* * *

When the Infanta Caterina Maria had feared that she was going to her death, she had not thought that it would be at the hands of brigands.

She and her ladies had endured weeks upon weeks aboard the vessel as it made its way to English shores. Enduring cramped quarters, storms and seasickness, yet it was not until they were in sight of land that they truly had cause to worry for their lives.

Having heard the shouts of alarm, she had led her ladies to the deck, leaping backwards to avoid being bowled over by one of the men and, when she could determine a safe path, had swept over to the captain,

"Senor," she waited patiently until he turned and bowed,

"What is the matter?"

When he comes up again she can see that he is pale with fright and sweat stands on his brow,

"We are under attack Infanta," he informs her, "Pirates, with cannon, those ships there."

He points and she follows his gaze to see three large vessels that are flying black flags and she sees that they are gaining on them,

"What are we to do?" she asks the captain, carefully maintaining a calm facade and glancing behind her to ensure that her ladies are doing the same.

The captain swallows nervously and braces himself,

"Forgive me, Infanta, but I have orders from the Emperor to ensure, first and foremost, that the dowry is kept safe."

Caterina Maria reaches for her grandmother's ring on her finger and squeezes it for comfort,

"The _dowry_?" she echoes, "What of my safety? Or that of my ladies?"

He has the grace to look ashamed but she can see the resignation in his eyes. The dowry was of the utmost importance, for if she died, it would be taken back to Spain, either to be returned to the coffers or to be given to another Spanish Princess, to be loaded onto a ship and sent to England as she had been.

"Very well," she murmurs, "I shall take my ladies to the cargo hold and barricade it as best we can, please do let us know when it is safe to emerge."

* * *

Picking up her skirts, she sweeps past her ladies who all fall in hurriedly behind her and tries to move swiftly yet confidently as she leads them to the damp and dark cargo hold.

"There is no reason to be afraid," she tells them as the door is closed and they are ensconced in almost perfect darkness, "Pray for comfort but do not be frightened, if the worst should come, I will endeavour to see that you are kept safe."

Some of her women are weeping with fright as they help her move three barrels to block the doorway before they sit down to wait.

The Infanta hummed in the darkness, singing a song her grandmother had taught her in the hopes of calming her ladies as cannon fire clapped around them as loud as thunder.

Louder and louder, men were shouting, screaming, the vessel rocked violently and her ladies screamed as she bit her tongue so that she would not cry out.

Madness must have overcome her for a moment, for she found herself wondering about her betrothed, whether he would mourn her death?

Another loud crash and blinding light fills her eyes, making her terrified that she has died, yet when she can see, she realises that it is much worse.

A cannon has hit the vessel, knocking it aside for merely an instant before it starts to right itself. The cannon had wrecked a hole in the ship, therefore, the very moment it lands back in the ocean, water starts filling the cargo hold.

She scrambles over to the door and pushes the barrels out of the way, tearing a nail as she hurls the door open only to see one of the crew landing down the stairs, a dagger in his chest. She slams the door shut again and tries to think,

"Tear them," the Infanta yells above the shrieking terror of her ladies before she realises that they do not understand her,

"Your gowns," she explains, reaching down to her own skirts,

"Tear them, get rid of the weight."

She rips off the velvet kirtle and pulls off her headdress, pausing only when her shift is visible around the ribbons of ruined dress. The water is above her knees as she wades over to the hole and peers out, part of the hole is above the water and she pulls on the ruined wood until she thinks that they can slip out.

They are facing the ocean, mayhap land is close by?

She has never swum before, yet she is light and it can not be that far from land.

She turns back to her ladies, "Verily, I am sorry," she tells them,

"I am afraid that we must escape."

One of her ladies comes forward, "I know how to swim in the ocean," she says firmly, "With your permission, Infanta," she takes her hand, "I will go first."

The Infanta has six ladies accompanying her and makes sure that they are all out of the cargo hold before she, taking the bits of ruined wood as her first lady suggested, to hold onto.

Following the example, set by the first lady, she takes a deep breath and dives beneath the freezing water, her eyes stinging as she forces them to stay open and keep the bare feet in front of her in view. When she cannot take another second, she breaks for air and looks about her.

There are bodies and blood in the water, pieces of wreckage and the ships are so close as to cast shadow on where she scrambles for air before turning around in a half circle.

There!

"Land!" she shouts to her ladies, showing them the green shore and twisting to ensure that they are all still with her.

They are struggling to stay afloat, weeping with fear and spitting out water, yet they are there.

"It is too far," the first lady tells her, "Infanta, we cannot make that distance, not against the tide."

She wants to argue with her, to claim that a Princess of Spain can do whatever she wishes, but her legs are tired and a wave washes over her head, causing her to choke and splutter as the salty water hits her throat.

"That ship!" her youngest lady screams, "It flies the English flag."

Twisting and paddling, caught in the current, the Infanta struggles to see in the direction that her lady is pointing. Verily, she does see a vessel rapidly approaching, cannon at the ready and the crest of England billowing against the wind.

Her teeth are chattering loudly as the cold water causes her bones to ache and her ladies are shivering violently,

"Come," she says, "They are our friends."

Every wave seemed intent on beating them backwards, towards the pirates and their doom, yet, they persevere, with the Infanta deliberately moving as slowly as possible so that her ladies were before her and she could keep them in sight. It was slow progress, seemingly hours and days passed before she heard a strange shout and raises her weary head to see the vessel lowering boats overboard, men in them rapidly rowing towards them.

She is unceremoniously yanked out of the sea by her armpits and pulled onto the boat, floundering on the bottom of the craft for a moment before she is hauled up and sat upright as if she was little more than a doll. Two more of her ladies suffering the same treatment beside her.

The man doing all the poking and prodding growls at her in a language so strange that she reels backwards, terrified that she's somehow been mislaid into the hands of a pirate,

"My...women," she tries in the little English she speaks, "All...well?"

More growling, strange gestures and she casts her eyes about to ensure that every last one of her ladies is being fished out of the water.

"We go big ship...yes?" she asks the man as he begins rowing, more growls and mayhap a nod towards land.

When they reach the beach, the man jumps into the shallow water and begins tugging the boat ashore, eager to assist, the Infanta orders her ladies off the vessel and tries to help him.

Her hands are frozen, bleeding from various cuts and splinters and she winces as a cold wind lashes at her bare limbs and sodden clothes.

Still, she swallows around an aching throat and legs trembling from exhaustion and staggers over to her ladies, gathering them around her, and making them sit down on the sand while she checks them over, clucking like a mother hen.

* * *

The growling man leaves and returns with villagers and a priest who speaks Latin, working as a translator who guides them to a castle where she deposits her ladies in front of a roaring fire and immediately demands to be shown the kitchens.

The Infanta oversees the making of syllabubs and finds fresh linen, meant for beds which she tears up to make into bandages. When she returns to her ladies, she finds that some of the wounded Englishmen have been brought in, one is bleeding profusely from the thigh.

"Table." she orders, knocking on the hard wood to make her point and the men carrying him look at her curiously, however, she does not allow them to argue.

They lay him upon the table and she takes a knife from one of them, using it to cut the man's stocking and breeches until his leg is exposed. She pours the wine over it and he curses in a tongue that surprises her,

"You speak Spanish, senor?" she asks as she begins cleaning the wound,

"You curse to make an infidel blush."

He grins, propping himself up on elbows, "Forgive me, my lady, I learnt the tongue from having it screamed at me in hatred many a time."

The Infanta smirked as she checks her hands, finding which of her nails was still long and using it to extract a splinter,

"That makes you either a successful soldier or a successful gambler." she quips and he laughs,

"I would like to believe that I am both."

"Men often do." she retorts, raising her head as one of her ladies' approaches, with a bevy of people in tow, "Infanta, the trousseau has been delivered safely." she reports and the Infanta snaps her fingers,

"Spain is saved," she scoffs, sardonically, "Open it, dress yourselves."

The lady gasps, "We cannot, Infanta, what will you wear to meet your husband?"

The Infanta looks down at her ruined gown, the shredded cloth stuck to her knees and trailing down her thighs, her collar was in place yet she could not be called decent by Spanish or even French standards.

Still, the memory of her captain's orders irritates her to rebellion,

"Well," she shrugs, "I shall have to meet him naked and hope that he either falls in love with me or turns to stone."

The soldier behind her roars with laughter and she shushes him with a smile, "You shall not tell any Englishmen I said that," she warns as she ties the bandage around his leg, "Or I shall let this get infected."

He crosses himself and kisses his ring, "Upon my honour." he swears, still laughing as she helps him stand and he takes his cloak, one of fine silk and drapes it over her shoulders.

She helps him limp into the Great Hall, where more strangers are waiting, one of them a beautiful blonde woman who immediately waddles over to the soldier, clearly pregnant, taking him in her arms and fussing over him, covering him with so many kisses that the Infanta blushes and turns away.

Another woman comes up, a pretty brunette who is studying her with brazen eyes,

"Parlez-vous francais?" she asks, and the Infanta quirks an eyebrow,

"I am Spanish and thus an enemy of the French," she responds fluently, "So no, I do not speak the language."

The woman shrugs, her lips turned up in amusement and tries again, "English?"

The Infanta smiles, "A little, I learn and understand."

"Where is Princess?"

Realizing that she has not been identified, she puts a hand to her heart and smiles in spite of the blush rising up her cheeks,

"I am Infanta Caterina Maria," she says, "I am Princess."

Around her, people squawk in surprise and she is taken by dignitaries and her ladies are once again pulled about unceremoniously as attempts are made to salvage the dignity of the event.

She is led towards the soldier she treated and his wife,

"Your Majesty," one of the dignitaries bows, "May I present the Most Esteemed Infanta Caterina Maria."

He turns back and motions hastily for her to bow, yet she can only shrug helplessly, "If I were to bow now, I would be showing the Queen far more than she wished to see."

The Queen placed a hand to her mouth as she laughed, "Come," she gives her a hand, "We shall give you a gown."

* * *

Niklaus hopped over to his brother Elijah, leaning on him heavily to take the weight off his leg, and the room relaxes, people gathering together to exclaim over the events of the day. He is given a cup of wine and toasts his friend, a Scottish seaman named Jamie as he swaggers over,

"Well," he declares, "For everything that she's been through, she sure is a _Bonnie_ lass."

"Verily," Niklaus agrees, "She is."

* * *

A/N- HA! Tricked you all


	11. Chapter 11

A/N- Reviewers, I have mentioned that this story will be angst free, Klaus is never going to cheat on Caroline. Nobody will be cheating on anybody in this story.

* * *

The Infanta trembled as the Queen of England took her hand and led her away from the Court, slowly up the staircase, with her retinue falling in behind them.

So many beautiful, richly clad women.

Catarina had been raised with her grandmother in Arevalo, the castle had been so dark, cold and small, whilst they had been poorly fed, poorly clothed and poorly kept.

Now, she can feel shame over her ruined gown, which she clutches about her as she follows on the heels of the sumptuously clad Queen.

The beautiful Queen.

Even heavy with child she is graceful and in her loose gown she reminds her of a ship sailing down a river. Servants hurry ahead to open the doors for them and when they enter it is to find candles being lit, wine being poured and a fire being stoked in the large fireplace.

The Queen settles into a chair by the fire with an appreciative moan and her women flitter around her, one handing her a goblet of wine, another placing a cushion under her feet and yet another massaging her shoulders as she leaned backwards.

Luxury the likes of which the Infanta had never seen.

The Queen wears a friendly smile and waves a hand, a signal which Catarina does not recognize, fortunately, the brazen-eyed brunette pushes forward a chair until it hits her knees and she sits down.

"Little English, little Spanish." The Queen sighs, before snapping her fingers and speaking too quickly for Catarina to follow.

She hides her hands in what is left of her skirts and turns her gaze to the fire, trying to think of how she should act.

She had prepared herself for hostility, for cruelty, not for this kindness that she was being shown.

Verily, what was she to do?

The brunette appears at her shoulder,

"Come," she speaks in perfect French, "We have gowns ready for you."

Cautiously, the Infanta glances to the Queen who waves her hand again and she stands and curtsies as much as she is able to in her ruined clothes, she follows the brunette to another room and cannot resist gasping in wonder when she sees all the gowns laid out before her. Every color of the rainbow and so soft to the touch.  
She had never seen fabric so fine, nor ever worn it. She had seen the gowns of her dowry, in Spanish fashion with high collars, heavy sleeves and gable hoods to ensure modesty. These gowns, well, they were not quite as immodest as French gowns but they were not a beacon of modesty either.

The brunette stands before her and taps a finger to her chin before spinning around with a flurry of her skirts, "Blue," she announces, "You will be resplendent in blue."

"Do none of the Queen's ladies speak Spanish?" she queries in French, as she is stripped of her scraps of gown, taken to a silver basin and given a cloth to bathe herself with.

"No," the lady responds, "French is so much more fashionable, besides we were at war with Spain," she frowns curiously,

"Yet, Spain was at war with France and you speak the language as well as I?"

Catarina runs the cloth along her skin and tries not to feel shame at the amount of women in the room. She had lived such a solitary life with her grandmother, she had only ever had one maidservant to dress her and now was surrounded by a bevy of them.

"It was assumed that I would be married to a French prince," she explains and the woman gives an artistic shudder, "It is the work of a gracious God that you were not," she announces irreverently, "For I have seen the princes of France and would not bed one for all the gold in the world!"

Catarina drops her cloth and stares at the woman scandalized,

"Such words are not well spoken in a royal court," she chastises only to have the brunette shrug,

"The Queen does not hear me, nor would she find fault in my words,"

The brunette takes her hands without any ceremony and pulls her forward, holding up a sheer shift, "Besides, I am her good sister in marriage," she explains as she slips the shift over Catarina's head, the gossamer smooth as water against her skin,

"Wed to the older brother of her husband and the older brother of _your_ husband, the newly titled Duke Kol."

Oh.

This woman was her good-sister.

This was why she was so loose-tongued in her presence.

"What is your name?" she asks quietly as she is sat on a stool and stockings are rolled up her legs, she keeps her eyes on the woman and tries not to blush at the touch of fingers on her thighs,

"Katherine," she gives a wicked smirk and a bob in place of a proper curtsy,

"A lovely _French_ name, is it not?"

There's a knock at the door and a blonde woman sweeps in before either of them have time to speak. She turns to Katherine and asks her many questions in English that Catarina does not comprehend before sashaying forward and pulling the Infanta into an embrace,

"You are well, yes?" she asks in broken Spanish as she steps back and Catarina has to wonder if any courtier in England practiced etiquette,

"Yes." She answers with a nod.

"This is your other sister," Katherine offers as she darts between them to tie up the laces of her gown,

"Rebekah."

Another one?

"How many sisters do I have now?" she demands in English and both women laugh,

"Just the three in England," Rebekah answers, "We are glad you are here."

Catarina does not comprehend the sentence yet she understands the sentiment and smiles,

"I am happy to be here."

She is dressed, her feet placed into heeled shoes, her hair is brushed and she is made ready in very little time, yet when she and her two sisters re-enter the chamber, the ladies are all gone.

Catarina wonders if she has committed a wrong, or if perhaps Spain has become the enemy of England again, she bites her lip and looks about in worry until her eyes land upon a scene.

The Queen is still in her chair yet there is a man with her.

The man Catarina had tended to earlier, he is standing before her, gripping the arms of the chair and his face is pressed against the Queen's neck.

She gasps and turns away quickly, having never seen such a scandalous act being done before and picks up her skirts, tripping over her heeled shoes as she sweeps out the door, bawdy laughter following on her heels as her two sisters trail behind her.

She takes Katherine by the sleeve and pulls her into a niche, "Will I be expected to do _that_ with my husband?" she asks, too concerned with the answer to care that she is speaking French, and her sister covers her mouth with her fingers, laughing behind them,

"And more besides," she responds, before her face turns kind,

"Verily, I doubt that the bedding will take place tonight," she assures her, "like as not there will be a grand ceremony, so I shall explain to you on the morrow what is to be expected."

Catarina clears her throat and nods graciously, "Thank-you," she murmurs and decides that perhaps it would not be the worst thing to have to speak French with one sister.

Rebekah comes forward and slips her arm through hers, "You come now," She demands in a little Spanish, "You see husband."

The Infanta took that to mean her husband not her sister's husband, though, verily, her English family appeared to grow by the moment.

She is led to a gallery, quiet and ill-lit, and she can barely see the man at the end of the long hall.

Why was her husband hiding in the shadows?

Was he ill-formed?

 _Hideous?_

Rebekah darts forward, "Kol!" she hisses, "Come here, now!"

He raises his head in surprise and though there is only moonlight and a single taper, Catarina can see that she has little to fear.

He is not ill-formed or hideous.

Indeed, when he comes towards her she cannot think of anything but a hero from a tapestry, his jaw is strong yet his face is kind. He bows gallantly and she curtsies, unable to recall what she is supposed to say, in any language.

He looks up from his bow with eyes that are full of humor and she smiles instinctively, holding out her hand which he takes with a quick kiss to her knuckles.

He straightens up and looks over his shoulder, jerking his head and out of the shadows steps a man in modest garb with a gold chain about his neck. Her husband speaks to him and the man turns towards her with a bow,

"Infanta," he begins in Spanish, "I am Atticus Shane, your husband's Spanish tutor. He wishes me to welcome you to England and asks if there is anything you need?"

Catarina shakes her head, "Tell him I am glad to be here, though I wish my arrival had been drier and I am honored to be his wife."

When Atticus relays this in English, the Duke Kol laughs, exposing his white straight teeth and the dimples in his cheeks, he is still holding her hand, his thumb stroking her skin without thought.

It is setting her atremble and her eyes keep darting to his strong, large hand as he caresses her.

"He says that he is very honored and glad to be your husband." Atticus offers by way of reply and then her husband is laying her hand on his arm and leading her down the gallery in a swish of skirts.

* * *

Katherine watches them go with a smirk, "Remind me to take her aside later," she asks Rebekah, slipping an arm about her waist,

"There are matters she and I had best discuss before tonight."

Her little good-sister is confused, "What matters?" she inquires, "Should I know of them?"

Katherine runs her eyes over the girl's sweet face, her large eyes, soft lips and pleasingly plump body, she was a beautiful chit though one well-guarded from the licentious members of the court by her brothers and the Queen's ladies, who knew the risk if any scandal or heartbreak were to befall their young charge.

"Not before you are six and ten." She decides.

* * *

A/N- There we go!


	12. Chapter 12

A/N- Thanks for reading.

* * *

There was a slight chill in the air and leaves that had once been emerald were now amber as they blew across the palace gardens.

The sky hung low and a dismal grey, warning that there would be rain clattering against the windows later as the courtiers hurried inside, shrieking as the first drops landed on their expensive velvet and furs.

Yet for the moment, they were merrily wandering across the lawns and down to the river, musicians playing for them and various acrobats and performers were scattered across the acres to amuse them.

Underneath an ancient oak tree and a canopy of silk, atop a pile of pillows, Queen Caroline reposed regally, one hand on her swollen stomach whilst the other stroked her husband's golden curls.

The Queen was six months gone with child and that very evening would be going into confinement, leaving the running of her court and country to her Chancellor and husband for the next three months as she waited to bear her child.

She sighed wistfully and stretched her legs underneath her plum colored gown, part of her eager for the moment when she could lie abed all the day with endless sweet meats at her fingertips, yet another part of her was dreading bidding farewell to her husband.

To not see him for so many months would be _torturous_!

Pouting, she tugs on his tugs on his golden curls and he looks up at her.

"Swear that you love me." she demands playfully and he chuckles, his blue eyes sparkling as he leans up to kiss her neck and then her lips, "Verily, with all my heart, beloved."

His dry lips brush against hers and he positions himself awkwardly to kiss her without touching her stomach, he lived in fear of accidentally knocking the child out of her, "Queen of my heart, queen of my world…" his hand strays north and squeezes her sensitive breast, causing her to whimper in delight, "Queen of my c-"

" _Madre Maria ten piedad!_ "

Both of them start and snort with humor as the Bonnie Infanta spun around, breaking etiquette in showing her back to the Queen as she shields her eyes.

Her husband is standing beside her and pulls her into a comforting embrace,

"There, there, Bonnie," he murmured comfortingly, kissing her forehead and glaring at Niklaus until he pushes himself back to his knees and straightens his doublet, cupping Caroline's face lovingly and nodding to assure her that she appeared respectable.

The poor Infanta Caterina had not arrived on waves of good fortune into England. Since her arrival, Spain had been caught in a secret treaty with France and on her father's orders, the ambassador had taken her dowry back to Spain, leaving her penniless and abandoned on enemy shores.

Yet luck had been with her, she had saved the leg of the Queen's consort and won the love of his younger brother, in spite of the humiliating blows dealt her, she had glided about the palace with a sweet smile on her face until the Scot's nickname for her, Bonnie Infanta, was the name everyone called her by.

Caroline had sworn that Bonnie would remain in England as an honored sister-in-law, with Kol's riches for having agreed to the marriage surely enough to keep them both, if not in royal state than at least in a noble one.

If only she could master the skill of not wandering into the Queen's presence whenever she was intimate with her Niklaus.

Verily, why could she not feign an aching head and retire to her bedrooms with her husband as her sister-in-law Katherine did at every golden opportunity?

Caroline sighs and holds out her hand, the moment gone as hunger tickles at her stomach,

Niklaus leapt to his feet to help her rise,

"I am starved," she announces, "Let us eat."

One of her ladies begins moving towards the palace and as if a breeze was blowing gently through the garden, the rest of the courtiers begin to follow her, moving as smoothly as barges on the Thames. Her husband tugs gently on her hand, waiting until backs are turned before he captures her lips in a loving kiss,

"I shall send you messages thrice every day," he swears,

"Anything that you wish shall be yours."

She squeezes his hand, "Verily, at this moment all I wish for is the baby to come into this world healthy and hearty, and for neither France nor Spain to declare war on us while we are in confinement."

"You shall have not a thing to worry about," Rebekah says, appearing at her elbow and patting her arm, "All shall be fine."

Sweet little Rebekah, still so innocent in the ways of the world and the ways of the birthing chamber. She had always been sent away when her mother had given birth so that she knew nothing of the pangs and pains, only that afterwards there was a baby.

Caroline kissed her cheek, "You are quite right," she lies smoothly, looking over her head to her husband, whose eyes verily shone with amusement and tender love,

"All shall be fine."

* * *

 _Two nights later._

The chambers were as quiet as tombs. Tapestries covered the walls and windows save for one to allow the merest hint of fresh air into the room.

It was stifling and the queen was bored.

She huffed as she sank down onto her bed and gazed about the bedroom.

She had books to read, altar cloths and shirts for the poor to be sewn and cards to play yet there was nothing that caught her fancy.

Verily she wanted her husband.

Bonnie swept into the room with a smile on her face and a small basket of herbs she insisted on placing about the chambers. The poor girl was so confused by the tradition of confinement and so set on seeing Caroline birth the child safely that the queen only smiles and closes her eyes, letting herself drowse as her little good-sister goes about her work.

She hears the faintest click and Bonnie's smothered scream has her rising to her feet, her hands instinctively covering her swollen belly.

She opens her mouth to shout for the guards when she hears a familiar voice,

"Hush, hush little Bonnie, it is only I."

Caroline's shoulders sink in relief as she sits back down on the edge of the bed, squinting through the darkness to see a figure clothed in black near the passageway, his hand over Bonnie's mouth,

" _Niklaus,_ " she hisses as the poor Spanish princess is unceremoniously lifted through the air and through the hidden door, "What are you doing, husband?"

Bonnie's face is thunderous as the door is closed with her on the other side, "Kol is in my chamber," the Prince consort whispers, "He is waiting for you."

Caroline's Spanish is still poor, though mayhap she can guess at the words she can hear Bonnie muttering as she stalks down the passageway to Niklaus' chambers.

Her husband smirks and turns to her, a proud smile on his face as he tiptoes silently across the room and kneels before her, placing his head in her lap,

"I have missed my Queen." he sighs and she cannot resist her own smile as she runs her fingers through his hair,

"Verily, I have missed you with all my heart,"

"Yet you cannot be here," she chides gently, as he climbs onto the bed to sit beside her,

"Tradition states that no man shall enter my apartments while we are in confinement."

He has a wicked grin as he presses a kiss to her neck and she shivers with delight, gripping the sheets beneath her.

"We shall have to keep this a secret, my obedient wife."

Niklaus orders her to her feet and she stands still as he undresses her, slipping her loose gown from her shoulders and taking her heavy breasts in hand, making her whimper as he squeezes them,

"Gentle, my love," she murmurs as he wraps her in his arms, desire pooling between her thighs and making her forget tradition and duty, "We must be careful."

Her loving husband nods and bends to press a kiss to her stomach, "So we shall," he promises as he leads her to the head of the bed and pulls back the covers so she can slide between them. Caroline sits with her knees spread and she bites her lip to smother her sigh as he undresses before her, revealing his gorgeous golden body and when he looms over her, capturing her mouth in a kiss, she no longer cares if she is cavorting like a common whore.

"Oh, my sweet queen," Niklaus sighs as she takes his manhood in hand, "Two nights was too long, we must never be apart again."

"Never again." She promises, continuing her ministrations.

* * *

In the next chamber, the Queen's ladies looking up from their needlework as the sounds- all too familiar for a few of them, bewildering to the rest- reach their ears.

The Lady Katherine smirks in triumph and holds out her hand, the coins she had won in the wager soon spilling onto her skirt.

"Not a word of this to anyone," she warns with a firm glare, "Or verily, you shall have to survive my wrath."

* * *

A/N- In case anyone is wondering about Bonnie's poor luck, she's a dramatized version of Katherine of Aragon.


	13. Chapter 13

A/N- Here we are.

* * *

Caterina could not even begin to tally the strange goings on that she had encountered since arriving in England and marrying her husband.

From being the Most Gracious Infanta Caterina Maria de Aragona, daughter of the Spanish Emperor, she had become Bonnie.

That was how she was known to everyone, from the Queen herself down to the English peasants that called out to her as she rode past.

 _Bonnie_.

She was told it meant happy and verily, she was happy, even if the English court was mind-rattling in its peculiarity.

The very first morning after her bedding with her husband, a horde of noblemen had come into her bed chamber, startling her and horrifying her ladies whom had gamely tried to push them out and bar the door. Such a thing would never have been allowed in any castle in Spain.

Elijah, her good-brother, the one married to the saucy Katherine, had arrived an hour later and tried to explain that it was an English custom and they were a great deal less formal than the Spanish nobility.

She had replied that that was the very first thing she had noticed upon arriving on English shores.

Then there were the celebrations, every night there was feasting and almost every day a masquerade or games or plays or some other form of entertainment.

Life with her grandmother had been so quiet and strict by comparison that she wonders what the woman would think now, to see her dancing almost every night with men who were not her husband and letting them wear her favours in jousts?

Yet she does nothing that the Queen herself does not do.

Except for _one_ thing.

She tries to focus on her needlework and ignore the stifling heat of the room.

Three weeks ago, the Queen had gone into confinement, into her sealed apartments to rest until her child was borne.

Bonnie had been confused when she had seen the windows covered with heavy tapestries save one to let tiny amounts of air into the apartments, gold and silver plates had lined the walls between the hundreds of candles to try and provide light to the gloomy rooms.

Her grandmother had been interested in medicine and herbs, she had even built a hospital near the castle and Bonnie had seen children borne before, she knew that locking a woman with child into an airless room would surely cause more harm than good.

She had whispered this to Katherine, knowing that as she followed French fashions and mannerisms, she must surely be disobedient enough to question the Queen's actions. However, her good-sister had merely shrugged,

"It is tradition," she explained, "Tradition must be upheld."

Bonnie had thought of many responses to that, yet had chosen to remain silent and taken leave to go down into the gardens and pick herbs for the queen, so that she would have something sweet in her rooms.

Those responses had only grown in number when she had found herself being bundled out of the queen's rooms like laundry so that the prince consort could go to bed with his wife.

His wife who was six months gone with his child!

She had walked through the passageway as instructed to find her husband sitting by the fireplace in the prince's rooms, a goblet of wine in his hand and lust in his eyes.

A look she knew well.

Her ladies had told her what to expect from marriage whilst on the ship to England, they had told her horrid stories that they had heard from their mothers had made her tremble with fear and resolution to not let her husband lay a hand on her. Yet, the Lady Katherine had taken her aside on her first night at Court and told her different stories, stories about honey and milk and heat and longing.

The woman had smirked in her French way and Bonnie had accused her of lying in an attempt to lure her into indecency, Lady Katherine had only shrugged and suggested that she would be proven right in time.

She was not mistaken.

Kol had kissed her chastely at first, sweetly, albeit lingering kisses that had left his taste on her lips. Yet, quickly, she had found herself being led into quiet corners so that he might kiss her less chastely, so that he might put his hands on her waist and hold her tight against his hard body. From there, his hands had begun straying upwards to her bodice as his lips strayed down to her neck, in turn he had taken her hands, putting them on his chest. She had always walked away from these encounters blushing and wondering if perhaps he was leading her to wickedness.

On their wedding night, he had most certainly done so, divesting her of her shift so that he might gaze upon her nakedness with bold eyes, touching her with his hands and kissing every part of her. Worse still, she had found herself enjoying it, craving more and more still until she had lustfully begged him for the act.

Months had past and still she found herself unsated, albeit more able to control herself even when her husband is picking her up in his arms and carrying her over to the bed,

"It is…wicked," she argues as he unlaces her bodice and pulls it down to bare her breasts,

"She is heavy with child and…"

Verily, her argument is lost as Kol's hands delve under her skirts, gripping her thighs and tugging her closer towards him,

"Worry not, Bonnie," he had murmured as he had begun undoing his breeches and her mouth had gone dry, "Caroline and Nik will not let any harm come to the baby."

She had let herself be distracted then in performing her marital duties, duties which she admits now Katherine had been right about in her teachings. Afterwards, when she had lain naked in her husband's arms, lazily accepting his kisses on her flushed skin, she had sighed,

"Strange."

He had laughed in his endearing way and patted her rump, "Strange." He agreed.

* * *

An hour later they are awoken by Niklaus bursting into their chamber, barely dressed with wide eyes barely containing his shock,

" _It is time!_ "

* * *

Caroline moaned and huffed as her ladies led her up and down the chamber, Katherine stroking her back as Bonnie applied a wet cloth to her forehead. In the corner, the best physician in England waited to examine her.

"This…is… _terrible!_ " she declares, "How do women do this?"

"Much noise," Bonnie tells her in broken English, "Much anger."

"Queens have to undertake this with dignity, unfortunately," Katherine quips, pressing a cup of wine to her lips, "Shall we sit, sister?"

Caroline shakes her head, tears stinging her eyes, "I do not think it is yet time…I wish I had never married Niklaus, I _hate_ him!"

There is a knock at the door and Rebekah- who had been ordered to stay away from the birthing chamber pokes her head through,

"Is the baby here yet?" she asks sweetly.

Katherine raises an eyebrow at the young girl, "Do you see a babe about, dear sister?" she asks sourly, "If so, please speak now, the queen would be much relieved to find the child already borne."

Rebekah frowns, "How much longer shall it be? The Court shall be going in for dinner soon."

Caroline opens her mouth yet before she can speak, Katherine has Elena take her place and hurries across the chamber, pushing her sister-in-law out through the door,

"Come, let us find your brothers before the queen orders every last Mikaelson put on the Tower Bridge."

* * *

Niklaus was pacing the gallery outside the birthing apartments, pale and clenching his fists every time he heard his wife scream. His brothers were gathered about him, Elijah sitting on the windowsill with a book and Kol playing dice with one of his friends, both of them watching him with concern.

The court gave them space, milling about further down the gallery, the only one to approach being Chancellor Saltzman and his pageboy who stood ready to race down to the stables where the messengers would receive the orders to carry the news across the kingdom.

Niklaus does not see anyone until Katherine and Rebekah emerge, he fairly leaps on his sister and sister-in-law,

"How does she fare?" he demands, taking Katherine's hands and squeezing them,

"Is the babe well?"

Katherine smiles, "All is well, though she yet labours, I came to warn you to keep your sister from her rooms, the chit keeps foolishly asking if the babe has come."

Elijah sighed and wrapped his arms around Rebekah's waist, drawing her onto his lap,

"You cannot ask that, dearest little sister," he chides gently, "The babe will not be rushed."

Rebekah pouts, "It has taken _all the day!_ " she complains, "I want to meet it."

"This is not about _you_ ," Niklaus snaps as another shout of pain from Caroline issues forth,

"Katherine, get back in there!"

Katherine is surprised to receive an order from him, yet merely shrugs, picking up her skirts and turning on her heel, she reaches the door just as the physician comes barrelling out, losing his footing and dropping the tools of his trade on the rushes.

He gathers himself with great bluster and seeks out Kol, seeing him on the floor with the dice in hand,

"Your wife threw me out," he snaps at him, forgetting proper etiquette for speaking to a lord of the realm, "She is without grace or dignity."

Kol's eyebrows shoot up as those noblemen within earshot ponder that accusation. As the Bonnie Infanta had shown grace and dignity from the moment she arrived on English shores half-drowned and injured, it did not stand to reason that she was suddenly without those two virtues.

"Mayhap you said something to my wife to offend her dignity?" Kol suggested, "Might I ask what?"

The physician cleared his throat, "Nonsense, I stated truth. As there is a chance of the child being male, the queen should be cut open so that the child suffers as little strain as possible."

Katherine covers her mouth with her hand, gagging and sways on her feet before racing back into the room,

"I do not understand," Elijah responds, "Would that not… _kill_ the queen?"

"There have been instances of women succumbing to infection following the procedure yet surely a prince must take…"

Niklaus lurches forward and grabs the man by his collar, dragging him down the hall,

"If I ever see thine cursed shadow in this palace again I shall have your head!" he roars, pushing him down the stairs, "May every demon in hell feast upon your eyes."

The courtiers scatter as pigeons, watching as he storms back up the gallery, past his brothers and the Chancellor and into the apartments.

"Sweetheart?!"

The ladies shrieked at seeing the prince consort at the threshold of the birthing chamber yet he ignored them, moving past their weakly restraining hands.

Caroline was crouched over the birthing stool, Bonnie kneeling beside her, rubbing her back as she moaned. Neither notice at first when he silently joins them, when he sees his wife weeping he takes her hand and kisses it.

"The mad man suggested he cut her open from womanhood to navel and settle for a regency," Bonnie quietly reports in Spanish, "I suggested I cut him from manhood to throat."

Niklaus feels ill in his stomach, he kisses Caroline's hand again, finally catching her notice to earn a weak smile,

"My beloved Queen," he murmurs, brushing the hair back from her forehead,

"Verily, this is a trial, a hard one mayhap the hardest yet you are strong and I am here, all shall be well."

Caroline links her fingers through his, "You should leave us," she rasped,

"This is not men's work."

He shook his head, "I am here now. I swore never to leave your side."

* * *

Another painstaking hour passed before Bonnie caught the child and wrapped it in fine linen, checking between its legs before handing it to the maids to be washed of blood and grime.

Niklaus scoops Caroline up in his arms and carries her to the bed, laying her down before he is pushed out of the way by her ladies so she too can be cleaned.

The child begins crying and he turns to it, his eyes widening in wonder,

"May I?" he asks carefully and is handed the light bundle,

"Oh…" he gasps and laughs, "I…Caroline, look!

Not a sound came from the queen.

* * *

A/N- Did I mention that I'd been voted Best Angst Author in the Klaroline Awards?


	14. Chapter 14

A/N- Happy Halloween everyone!

* * *

The day of the christening was bright with sunshine; numerous banners had been hung in Hampton Court Palace and the rushes scattered with rose petals. In the chapel, the dignitaries of the realm and foreign diplomats were gathered to watch as the child was brought in, carried under a canopy in the arms of the Marchioness of Exeter.

At the altar, by the golden font, Prince Niklaus stood with his family, their eyes avidly watching the newest member of their house who began to fuss shortly before reaching them.

The wet nurse, who had entered the chapel with the rest of the royal household took a step forward yet Niklaus had scooped his newborn into his arms before anyone else could.

"There, there, young William," he murmured, his voice soothing the babe, "All is well."

Elijah shares a look with his brother Kol and the younger brother comes forward,

"Nik," he speaks with a lowered voice, "The Bishop awaits."

Niklaus nods his understanding yet does not return his son to the Marchioness' arms, rather, he himself performs the task, taking her place by the gold font and his siblings gather quickly around him.

Katherine stood as proxy for the Queen of Scotland, William's godmother and Elijah, for the King of France. Kol was godfather for the prince in his own right, as had been promised when he married Bonnie who had been granted the title of godmother as a token of love for her efforts in the birthing chamber.

It had not all been for naught.

The ceremony concludes after noon and Niklaus carries his son eagerly from the chapel heavy with the stench of incense to the fresh air of a courtyard, holding him to his chest so the peeling of the bells would not wake the poor babe.

Prince William Henry Edward.

"How fare you my son?" he asks him jovially, "Do you wish to be returned to your rooms?"

The court is gathering around him; Rebekah places a hand on his arm and stretches on her toes to glimpse her nephew.

"I shall return him to Caroline before the feast." he informs her, moving away before she can respond.

Niklaus feels nervous holding his son, filled with terror at the thought of dropping him so he moves as quickly as he warrants is safe through the halls of the Palace. He ignores the servants who stop and curtsy hurriedly when he passes, he ignores even his brother Elijah whom is running after him, calling his name as he climbs the stairs.

Niklaus does not cease until he has entered the Queen's rooms and found them empty.

Worse, found them looted of all the possessions.

A frown furrows his brow and he cautiously steps into Caroline's bed chamber, looking to the bed where they had spent so many hours wrapped in each other's embrace. Where they had laughed, and loved and predicted the future eagerly.

It had been stripped bare.

* * *

" _Niklaus!_ " Elijah flung himself into the room as his confusion begins to overtake him,

"Where is she?" he asks, holding his son to him cautiously, "Where is my wife? Where is the Queen?"

Elijah sighed, "Little brother," he crossed the room and put a gentle hand onto his shoulder,

"Do you not remember?"

In his arms, William releases a tiny wail and Niklaus shakes his head, "No."

"She has been moved to your rooms," his brother reminds him, "She spoke of it this morn, she could not bear to remain in these chambers."

He tilts his head as he wracks his mind and verily, cannot recall the moment,

"She is there now?" he confirms and Elijah nods,

"The court has gathered there to congratulate her."

"And Bonnie?" Niklaus demands, moving to the secret passage between their rooms out of habit before remembering that he could not do so now without revealing the secret.

"She is watching her, verily, she assures me that she is well."

He breathes a sigh of relief and allows his brother to lead the way, cutting a path through the courtiers who step back as he moves past.

He had never considered his chambers as living quarters, having preferred to sleep in his wife's bed, he would bathe, dress and occasionally meet with friends in his rooms yet otherwise, he was by the Queen's side.

Now, his floors had been lain with new carpets and rushes, the walls covered with bright tapestries and gold plate filled the cupboards. Niklaus walked through the servants setting up for the celebration and stepped into his bedroom to see Caroline lying back against a mountain of pillows, drowsing peacefully as Bonnie made her yet another syllabub.

The windows were wide open, allowing a gentle breeze to fill the room and undermine the heat of the roaring fire. Still, Caroline's forehead was damp with sweat and her face flushed, yet she smiled when Niklaus closed the door and sat on the end of the bed.

"Hello sweetest heart," he murmurs, "Are you well?"

She hums and stretches out a hand, patting the coverlet beside her lap and Niklaus lays William down carefully so as not to jostle her.

She rests a hand on his stomach, before looking to her husband, "The christening went well?"

He nods and takes her free hand, kissing it tenderly, "And you?" he asks, worriedly, "You are well?"

Niklaus had been terrified when Caroline had fainted after the birth but Bonnie had pushed him aside and begun issuing orders with greater skill than a sea captain. She had nursed Caroline back to health with tonics and herbs that the midwife called witchcraft.

Niklaus could not have given a care what it was, as they made his wife well again.

Caroline accepts the syllabub from Bonnie and holds the cup to her face, shielding it from her sight as she sticks her tongue out at Niklaus, who has to bite his own to keep from laughing.

"Make sure she drinks it," she tells him in Spanish, "Do not let her throw it out the window."

He nods dutifully and when she leaves the room to seek out her husband, the two of them break into laughter until they are breathless.

With a sigh, Caroline pinches her nose and drains the cup, swallowing with difficulty and handing it to him to place aside.

"She is right," he tells her, slowly making his way up the bed to settle beside her, "The sooner you are well again, the sooner you can return to matters of state."

She huffs and lays her head on his shoulder, "Verily, does Alaric curse me for tarrying?"

He kisses the crown of her head, "Not you, mayhap he blames me for the matter."

She laughs, resting her hand on his arm, "As did I, however, I can forgive you this time."

He grins as he hears the gentle knock on the door, they are out of time, "And what of the next?"

She purses her lips in disapproval, "We shall see."

"And the time after that?" he jests, climbing off the bed and moving to the door,

"You are pushing your luck."

He chuckles and opens the door a fraction to see Katherine's face, "It is time," she warns him and he smiles, "A moment."

He turns back to Caroline, "My luck raised me from soldier to earl, to prince and better yet, gave me your heart. I trust in it more than words can say."

She puts a hand to her heart, "Verily, I love you too."

 _~Fin~_

* * *

A/N- This was the final chapter. Thank-you everyone who read and reviewed, I had a lot of fun writing this story.


End file.
